Songs
by AreiaCannaid
Summary: In which Will uses his skill with the mandola to annoy his friends (especially Halt), charm the ladies, and help rescue a captured Scotti diplomat. And when what should have been a straightforward mission turns deadly for one of Will's friends, it is up to him to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it before it's too late. (Takes place around/after The Lost Stories)
1. Chapter 1

**Songs**

 **A/N:** Here is the next little short in my little mini series. This one will probably be four to five chapters as there will be more characters in it. I got a request to do this one and a request to do Hides, but I settled on this one since I got the request first. I do apologize for taking so long to start it, but I've been dealing with health troubles lately so it's been a little difficult. But I definitely haven't forgotten about these. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

 **Summary:** In which Will uses his skill with the mandola to annoy his friends (especially Halt) charm the ladies, and help rescue a captured Scotti diplomat. And when what should have been a straightforward mission turns deadly for one of Will's friends, it is up to him to figure out that went wrong and how to fix it before it's too late. (Will, Halt, Alyss, Horace, Gilan) (Takes place around/after The Lost Stories)

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Will strummed the last chord of a particularly tricky musical interlude, feeling quite a bit of satisfaction as he did so. It had, admittedly, sounded skillful. And he had practiced many hours in order to get it just right. Having finished the interlude, he flew into the next verse, his voice mingling skillfully with the voice of his instrument.

.

 _Greybeard Halt was a fighting man_

 _I've heard common talk_

 _That Greybeard Halt, he cuts his hair_

 _With a carving knife and fork_

 _._

 _Fare thee well Greybeard Halt_

 _Fare thee well, I say_

 _Fare thee well Greybeard Halt_

 _I'll see you on your way._

 _._

After the chorus he strummed the final chord with an air of finality. He looked up expectantly into the face of his audience, the baker's daughter. He felt the slightest twinge of disappointment when he caught sight of her wide eyed stare and slightly open mouth.

"So, what do you think?" he asked anyway.

Perhaps it would just take a few moments to sink in properly.

"Doesn't the Ranger Halt get upset hearing you speak of him so?" she asked, almost fearfully, glancing about herself as is expecting to see the grizzled Ranger magically appear in the little clearing before them with his bow drawn.

Will remembered that Deliah—the innkeeper's daughter at Seacliff fief—had had much the same reaction that Emily was having now. Except, if anything, Emily's reaction was far more fearful. After all, in Seacliff, the Ranger Halt was a national hero; but here in Redmont, he was all that and more. He was a constant presence and a local legend. Will sighed a little inwardly. Most country folk seemed too overawed and fearful of his old mentor's reputation to appreciate the humor and wit behind the words he had so carefully modified, or the admitted skill of his playing.

It was at times like this that he really missed Alyss. She loved his songs and wasn't too intimidated by Halt's reputation to overlook the humor of the one he had just played. Alyss had been sent away on a diplomatic mission about two weeks ago. And it was probably due to the fact that he was missing her so much that had driven him to seek out the company of the pretty and friendly baker's daughter.

"He doesn't really mind," Will said finally in answer to her question, waving a hand dismissively.

"But wouldn't those words make him angry?" she insisted.

Will was about to try and brush the question off again, when a voice, sounding from directly behind him, made him jump in surprise.

"Yes, they certainly do. In fact, it could be said that he absolutely hates it."

Will felt his heart freeze and then sink into the pit of his stomach as he recognized the lightly accented voice.

"H-Halt," Will stammered, feeling his shoulders slump.

Emily let out a mew of fear, rose quickly to her feet and scampered away down the road, disappearing within a moment.

Will turned slowly around to face his old mentor, cringing slightly as he caught the dangerous look in Halt's steady gaze.

"Sorry, Halt," he murmured finally, after the ugly silence between them had dragged on uncomfortably long.

Halt grunted slightly, still glaring as he sat beside Will on the steps to the veranda.

Will was slightly surprised at that, normally Halt would have him scampering for cover in the nearest tree by now. Maybe he was softening up some, he started to think hopefully. Halt's next words, however, dashed those hope to pieces.

"Don't look too hopeful. The only reason you aren't climbing the nearest tree right now is that something urgent has come up. It seems-"

"Urgent?" Will interrupted, his attention instantly drawn. "What's happened?"

Halt glared at the interruption for a moment and Will shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry, please continue."

Halt nodded once and then went on. "Crowley thinks it best to call in the Task Force for this one. You know of Alyss's current mission?"

"Yes. She's helping to try and renegotiate a tentative peace treaty with us and the Scotti," he replied. "Nothing too serious or set in stone, just and attempt to open negotiations between our two kingdoms."

Halt nodded, "And, so far, the talks were going so well that they are sending a high ranking Scotti diplomat to finish the negotiations— one of the clan leader's daughters, I think."

"Well, that's good isn't it? It means that they're really serious about it, doesn't it?" Will asked, slightly puzzled.

"Yes, those are all good things. And they're not the problem."

Will made and impatient gesture for the grizzled Ranger to continue.

"The problem is this: Alyss managed to overhear some whispered plots. She had been led to suspect that an attempt will be made to try and seize this Scotti diplomat before she can make it to the talks.

"Both Crowley and the King have decided to send you Horace and I to make sure that it doesn't happen, and to protect her and her retinue from any further plots of the kind. These talks, if they are to succeed, could very well be important to the kingdom."

Will nodded his understanding.

"When do we leave?" he asked, excitement at the prospect of seeing Horace, as well as some action, beginning to rise in his chest.

"As soon as possible," the older Ranger replied. "We'll meet up with Horace on the main road near the border between here and Whitby."

Will leaped up then to gather his kit and make preparations to leave. He breathed silent thanks for the urgency of this new task. If it weren't for that, he had no doubt he would have been spending a supremely uncomfortable night in the branches of a tree—like what had happened the first time Halt had heard him sing that particular song.

He also was starting to harbor the vain hope that, by the time they returned, Halt would probably have forgotten the whole incident entirely. Feeling a new sense of assurity, he felt his shoulders straighten slightly as he moved to enter the cabin.

"Oh, and Will?" Halt's words stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes, Halt?" Will asked, turning to face him.

"The trees should still be around when we get back," his mentor said, the barest trace of a wolfish grin lighting up his face.

Will felt his shoulders slump again in defeat. He should have known better. Halt never forgot anything.

 **~x~X~x~**

Will sat near the campfire across from Horace, feeling a sense of contentment wash through him. There was almost nothing he loved more than being on the road and on another adventure with Horace and Halt. He set aside the bowl that had contained his evening meal and sighed slightly.

"It's good to be on the road again, isn't it?" Horace asked from across the way. He mirrored Will's sigh. "Things can get a little stuffy at Castle Araluen he admitted. "I've missed both of your cheerful company."

"Even Halt's?" Will asked impishly.

"Especially Halt's." Horace grinned at him.

Halt raised an eyebrow at that then asked, "Castle Araluen been boring you, Horace?"

The knight in question shifted uncomfortably, cleared his throat then answered.

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes. As I said, it can get a little stuffy. But it isn't all that bad," he added, not wanting to sound too ungrateful. "There are certain benefits to being stationed there, after all."

Will nudged his best friend playfully.

"Evanlyn's not going to be pleased to hear you call her a benefit," he said mildly.

Horace flushed a little at that, shooting his friend a measured look.

"Just teasing," Will said, putting his hands up in surrender.

"It's just good to be on the road again, is all," Horace said finally. "And I blame you Rangers that things and home border on boring sometimes. It's because of you lot that I got used to never being able to enjoy a peaceful moment."

"Well I, for one, am glad to have you along," Will said. "We need someone like you around to warn us whenever a raven caws," he teased, referring to an earlier incident when the three of them had been chasing Tennyson the false profit.

"You were just as scared of that raven as I was, Will," Horace pointed out,

"And I was the one who didn't get any sleep because of the two of you," Halt said, successfully squashing both their arguments.

"True," Will admitted, a little sheepish. "So," he said, changing tack, "What exactly is the plan. How are we supposed to protect this Scotti diplomat?"

Horace turned eagerly to Halt then, wanting to know the answer as much as Will.

"Alyss managed to get a message out to the riverboat captain bringing in the Scotti party. The captain is a friend of hers and he agreed to dock at Brunswick village, which is a smaller village due west of where the peace talks are taking place."

Brunswick was in the fief of Devon which was just east of the lower half of Whitby, they all knew.

"Alyss was afraid that docking at the river port just outside Devon Castle would provide too much opportunity for the diplomat's attackers," Halt continued. "We'll meet the ship at an earlier point and then we will escort her to the next town and then up to the castle itself. From there, we'll act as her and her retinue's guard for the remainder of the talks."

"That doesn't sound too exciting," Horace said with a rueful smile.

"Don't be too sure," Halt said. "If we don't find and stop whoever is behind this, we might have to stay with her all the way back up to Picta."

There was a moment of silence as they all considered that possibility. Though straightforward, this mission had the very distinct possibility of being rather lengthy and tenuous. But all three of them knew how important the success of these talks could be, and how disastrous it could be if they failed. Will looked up suddenly as Horace spoke.

"Halt?" he asked tentatively, "I've been thinking."

"Always a dangerous pastime," Halt and Will said in unison.

Horace brushed that aside. "Yes, yes, I know. But, as I see it, the time when this Scotti diplomat will be most in danger is from the time she arrives until the peace talks are over. I mean, whoever is after her obviously doesn't want the peace talks to succeed, right?"

"So, they are unlikely to try anything after the talks are over because there would be no point," Will finished for him.

"It's a fair assumption. But we should never be too hasty with them, because we don't know for sure the real motives behind her enemies," Halt said flatly.

Both Horace and Will nodded at the wisdom of this before Halt spoke on.

"You said you were thinking?" he prompted.

"Yes… right. Well, it seems to me that, for the most part, we'll need all the help we can get from the moment we meet her until after the talks are over—because that is still the most likely time her enemies might strike."

Halt and Will nodded once at him while they waited for him to continue.

"We will be passing very close to Whitby Castle and Gilan isn't supposed to come down to Redmont until next week. And, by that time, the talks will be over. By which case, if we didn't manage to find or stop her attackers, we would go on with her to Picta and Gilan can just go down to Redmont like he's supposed to," he finished, waiting for Halt to point out some flaw in his reasoning or some aspect that he had missed.

He was mildly surprised when Halt didn't answer right away and instead carefully considered the suggestion. After a few moments he turned to Will. These days, Halt valued and respected the input of his former apprentice.

"What do you think?"

Will shrugged.

"I think another pair of eyes in a situation like this could be very useful," then he could not stop his grin from breaking through. "Besides, I'd like to work with Gilan again. I've only seen him a couple of times since the last Gathering. Also, I don't see any reason why not."

"Neither do I," Halt admitted. "In fact, it might end up being very worth the slight detour it would take. That was good thinking Horace."

None of them thought it necessary to ask if Gilan would even want to join them. Unless he was tied up in a mission of his own, they knew he would. Horace sat back, feeling inordinately pleased with himself. After all, Halt wasn't one to dole out false praise. He decided then that he was spending entirely too much time in the company of Rangers; they were defiantly rubbing off on him.

He watched as Will, now that their plans were settled, took out his mandola and began strumming a few chords. Will always carried his mandola with him. It was common practice these days, when they weren't in hostile territory, for him to play while they sat around the campfire.

Horace really enjoyed it. Will's playing could defiantly lighten up the mood. He heard Halt sigh loudly and shift in his seat at the appearance of the instrument. He always made a show of not enjoying Will's playing. But Horace suspected that he didn't really dislike it as much as he professed to—well, not unless Will was playing _Greybeard Halt_. He smiled faintly at the thought.

He scooted forward as Will began the introduction to * _Sir Daniel Tuck_ , one of his favorites. As Will launched into the first verse, Horace could not keep the grin from his face. _Sir Daniel Tuck_ had been transformed into _Crowley the Ranger_. The words had always been funny, but this time around they were even more so. He was really starting to enjoy Will's revised songs, he thought.

.

 _Crowley the Ranger was a fine old man,_

 _He took down foes with his bow in hand._

 _He thought there was nothing that could slow him down,_

 _Till the forms and paperwork came around._

 _._

 _'Get out of the way,' old Crowley's wishin',_

 _He's already late for his next mission._

 _The crime is over and the bandits run free,_

 _Cause he's buried in forms far as the eye can see._

 _._

By the end of the song, even Halt had an amused look in his eyes. Crowley, after all, was always and forever complaining about paperwork.

"Now that one is a song I could get used to," Halt said, a slightly wolfish smile touching his lips.

"Yes," Horace said, straight faced, "Much better than _Greybeard Halt_."

The grizzled Ranger looked suspiciously at the young knight, but nodded none the less.

"Much better. Do you got any more like that?"

"Well, there is another one I'm working on," Will said, his smile turning just a touch smug. "I think I've settled on the final wording for it."

He began the opening notes of ** _Douse the Firelight_ , shot and a wicked looking grin at Horace and then launched into the first verse. Horace's expectant look suddenly morphed into one of mild surprise and then quickly turned a little flustered as the song went on.

.

 _It was a fine October evening, the moon shone bright and clear._

 _The harvests had been brought in, the most food of the year._

 _That's when I heard the rapping of a visitor come to stay,_

 _I rose to see who'd been knocking, and bared the door then right away._

 _._

 _'That's rather rude behavior,' my guests, they all did say._

 _'Why shut the door on someone, and force them turn away?'_

 _I said it's not forever; I'll let him in no doubt,_

 _When all the food's well-hidden and the pantry all locked out._

 _._

 _For the Oakleaf Knight Sir Horace, is the one who's at the door,_

 _He's champion of Araluen, but to him there's so much more._

 _His skill is only rivaled by his hunger, you'll find out._

 _Your food will all be eaten, your pantry strewn about._

 _._

 _He can defeat those mighty warlords, in feats of strength and arms,_

 _But that's not why their armies fail and flee in such alarm._

 _It's cause he's eaten all their provisions, and left them all without,_

 _So lock up tight your pantry, and pray it keeps him out!_

 _._

 _Oh, he's a master, sure, of chivalry, a gallant knight it's true,_

 _But invite him over for dinner, and that's a choice you'll rue._

 _For he is always hungry, he'll empty your stores right out,_

 _So lock up tight your pantry, and hope he won't find out._

 _._

Will sang the final word and strummed the final chord with a flourish, then winced at he hit a wrong note and his voice fell slightly flat.

Horace, whose face was a little flushed with embarrassment, looked up at the discordant sound.

"Well that was the ugliest sound I've heard in a long time," he said a little hotly. "Worst rendition of _Douse the Firelight_ , I've ever heard."

"It was only a little of key," Will said, slightly defensively.

"That's what made it so bad—the fact that it was so close to being right but wasn't."

"You're just saying that because you're angry at the lyrics and how truthfully they are," Will replied.

He turned then to his old mentor whose face was completely blank but whose eyes still held a slightly amused light.

"It wasn't that off key, was it Halt?"

"One type of tinny shrilling sounds the same as any other. First it was _Greybeard Halt,_ and now it's _Lock the Pantry_. It might be better for your health if you stopped making parodies for a while, Will."

"Oh, suddenly everyone is a critic," Will said angrily as he put away his mandola with a huff.

Horace moved then to set out his bedroll, turning away quickly because he could no longer keep his smile hidden—a smile that soon turned into a broad grin. The song, despite the fact that it insulted prodigious appetite, was, admittedly, pretty funny—even funnier since he'd managed to get Will back a little for it. Just so long as that song never became as widely known as _Greybeard Halt_ ; he had a reputation to uphold after all.

 **~x~X~x~**

It was still fairly early in the morning when the two Rangers and the knight made their way along the wooded path that led to the small clearing only a few miles from Whitby Castle. The cabin that Gilan used as a base was situated towards the northern side of the clearing. The three riders approached it. Things didn't look good when they didn't hear a warning or greeting whiny from Gilan's horse. Horace dismounted anyway and rapped on the door. After a few, moments he turned back towards the two Rangers, shrugging slightly.

"He must be out," Horace said finally.

"He's probably on a mission or some errand then." Halt frowned slightly.

Will and Horace exchanged glances and then looked to Halt.

"So what do we do?" Will asked.

"We don't know how long it will be before he returns. I don't think that we can afford to…" Halt suddenly stopped mid-sentence, tensing. Then he swore softly to himself.

Will was about to ask what was wrong when he found himself slightly startled by the sound of a familiar voice.

"What do we have here, three ugly bandits lost in the woods?"

Will turned to look behind him to see Gilan leaning causally on his longbow, a wide easy grin on his face.

"Oh, that's a little harsh," Halt said, turning to face him. "And not quite accurate. You aren't that ugly, and there's only one of you."

Gilan laughed as if it were a great treat to be made sport of in return.

"I was wondering when you were going to stop skulking in the brush and show yourself," Halt added.

Gilan's smile widened and he open his mouth to reply in kind when Will interrupted.

"Where's Blaze? Did she finally get tired of carrying around a sack of bones like yourself and run off in search of someone better?"He dismounted to embrace his friend then stepped back, grinning.

"I left her behind when I saw the fresh hoof prints heading to my cabin. I thought I'd see what was what before I rode obviously in."

Will nodded, knowing that he probably would have done the same. As Halt always said: 'nobody ever died of being too careful'.

Gilan turned from Will and let out a piercing whistle. In response, his bay mare broke through the cover of the trees and headed towards them. Gilan meanwhile had moved to Horace and clasped arms with him.

"Good to see you Horace."

"Likewise," the knight replied.

Blaze sided up to the tall Ranger then and he patted her neck absently as he turned to Halt.

"So, what brings you here? I thought you were on your way to protect the Scotti diplomat. Has something else come up?"

"We are on our way," Halt said, dismounting to greet Gilan in turn. "You're up early, are you busy?"

"No." Gilan shook his head. "Things in Whitby have been fairly quiet for the past few weeks."

"That's good then," Will interjected, turning to the taller Ranger. "What would you say to coming with us? Horace thought we might need an extra set of eyes on this one. And Halt thought it was a good idea."

"I'd say it's an offer I wouldn't be able to turn down." Gilan grinned.

The idea of going on another mission with Halt, Will, and Horace definitely appealed to him. He turned towards Halt for confirmation and the grizzled Ranger nodded once at him.

"Do you think the threat is really that serious?" he asked then.

"It don't know if it is or isn't," Halt confessed. "But I'd rather be too careful than not careful enough."

Gilan nodded. "I'll go get my kit and send a message to Alun."

Alun, they all knew, was the retired Ranger that took over Gilan's duties in Whitby whenever Gilan was sent to Redmont to cover for Halt and Will.

"Be as quick as you can," Halt added. "We're supposed to be meeting with one of Alyss's messengers tomorrow morning."

"You're right. I'd better hurry to make up for all the time it'll take for someone of your exalted age to make it to the meeting."

Will nodded sagely. "He has slowed down quite a bit since the last Gathering."

"And you should have heard him complain all this morning about his aching joints," Horace added.

"You know what? Halt asked, fixing the three young men with a glare that could kill. "I'm beginning to think this wasn't such a good idea after all."

He hadn't appreciated that particular line of jabs— especially since it had just been that morning, as he had crawled out of his tent and his joints had protested fiercely, that he had reflected wryly that he was getting too old for all this adventuring. But it wasn't as if he would ever tell them that— especially not now.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading. Reviews and Feedback is very appreciated. I'm an aspiring writer who really wants to know how I can improve. I hope this chapter was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write. Sorry if it was a little slow, this is mostly just a set up chapter, there'll be quite a lot of action next chapter— I hope that will make up for it. I also hope that everyone was in character and that everything seemed believable.

*this song I based off of, and wrote to the tune of, Old Dan Tucker which is an old American Folk song

**this song I based loosely off of, and wrote to the tune of, Blow the Candles Out, which is an old Irish folk song, though some people argue that it might actually be English or Welsh. There are many different versions of it, but the one I used was from Assassin's Creed Black Flag (I like that version the best, though be warned if you look it up, any version of this song would definitely be rated T)

Next week I (or rather Will) will make fun of more RA characters with parodies of songs :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **A/N:** Next chapter is up! I hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. I do apologize for the time it took me to get this chapter out—I hope to not take quite so long next time, if I can. It's just been pretty hard to write lately… which rather stinks XD

 **Lala the Screaming Fangirl:** There will definitely be a song about Gilan. I like him too X) Thanks for the review!

 **Meralyin:** I'm sorry I took so long. Awww :3 Thanks so much for the kind words and the review. It totally made my day!

 **HogwartsApprentice:** Thanks for the review- the compliments and the constructive criticism. I appreciate it. I made sure to fix Alyss's name. Also when it came to Horace, I defiantly see what you mean and I edited that part to fix it a little bit. I hope that it is now much more in character.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

The three Rangers and the knight met with Alyss's pigeon handler just before sunset after traveling steadily south of east for the better part of the day.

Will took the small scroll and read the note upon it that was written in Alyss's neat script.

"It says that we are to wait at the docks for the Scotti's diplomat in Brunswick instead of Devon. She says she got another boat captain to dock in Devon as a decoy to throw off the diplomat's enemies."

Halt nodded. "We knew as much already. Does it specify the time we need to be there?"

Will glanced at the note again, though he was already sure of the time.

"It says to be there four hours after mid-day."

"Late afternoon?" Halt asked, a little puzzled and then he shrugged.

He had been expecting the boat to arrive a mid-day. But if late afternoon was when Alyss said the boat would arrive, then that's when they would be there. Perhaps the late time was also part of the rouse to throw off the diplomat's attackers. It seemed logical if that were the case.

They traveled a little farther so that they were nearer Brunswick village before they made camp for the night. Halt set off to go hunt for supper and left the three young men to set up the camp and care for the horses.

When the three were finished setting up the little one man tents and the fire, they all sat down on the larger rocks inside the clearing to talk and tend their weapons.

Will picked a decent looking large rock near where his two friends had placed themselves. But the moment he lowered himself to sit, he let out a brief howl of pain. He leaped to his feet in an odd shuffling, hopping, sort of dance. His two friends looked up at him, concerned.

"Will?" Horace asked, "Will, are you alright?"

"No! I'm not alright!" Will continued his odd hopping about. "Get them out!"

"Get what out?" Horace asked, his voice pitched a little shrilly with confusion and worry.

It was Gilan who spotted the reason. He touched the knight's shoulder and pointed towards where Will had just sat down, a grin beginning to light his features. Horace followed the line of his pointing finger and then saw the tangle of thorny brambles that had been partially draped over the rock that Will had chosen as his seat.

It was just when Horace's eyes had widened in understanding that Will turned his back. Bent over as he was, it made the three long thorns sticking out of the seat of his breeches fairly obvious.

"Get them out! Get them out!" he repeated.

Horace moved immediately forwards to help his friend remove the thorns. Gilan, by that time could no longer hold in his amused chuckle. It burst forth from his lips and soon turned into full-blown almost helpless laughter.

Will rounded on him in a fury, knocking Horace slightly aside as he turned his head round from his bent forward position, his backside still facing the laughing Ranger.

"Stop it, Gil! It isn't funny!"

"It is from this direction," Gilan replied, his laughter redoubling, and this time he was joined by Horace. Will's own mouth twitched in spite of himself and soon his laughter was as helpless as theirs.

"Do you know what's even worse?" Will asked, in between laughs as he dug through his medical kit, "My salve is almost completely empty."

But as he said it, Gilan had already moved to his own kit and tossed Will his. Will went off into the woods then to spread the soothing and healing salve on the three small puncture wounds.

When he returned, he saw his two friends sitting placidly by the fire, the picture of innocence. They smiled a warm greeting at him. That was more than enough to make Will suspicious. He opened his mouth when Horace spoke.

"Come sit here Will." he beckoned to a place in between them. "We saved you a spot."

Will took a few reluctant steps forward and then glowered at his to so-called friends.

"Oh, very mature I'm sure, very funny," he said dryly once he had caught sight of the horse blanket that had been stuffed with dried leaves and pine needles until it made a sort of cushion.

Nevertheless, he sat upon it amidst the sound of his friends' raucous laughter, refusing to let them get the better of him. Besides, all things considered, it was indeed better than sitting on the hard ground. And when Halt returned to the camp and saw him sitting on a pillow, Will stolidly ignored his raised eyebrow. That only caused Gilan and Horace to laugh all the harder and once again Will couldn't help but join in after shaking his head in resignation.

The next morning they broke camp and then started traveling eastward again. And considering what had happened just the night before, Will should have expected that that wasn't going to be the end of it.

"Will," Gilan called from where he was stationed in the rear, "I think you forgot something."

As he said it, he tossed the pillow that he and Horace had made the night before to the knight who, grinning, tossed it to Will.

"Gil's right, the road is rather bumpy."

"But you're much heavier than me, Horace," Will said, catching the pillow. "You'd need it more," he called tossing it back.

"All three of you will need it if you don't stop behaving like children," Halt said warningly from the front. The pillow tossing stopped immediately, but the muffled snickering took a while longer.

Though Halt made an outward show of grimness, he was surprisingly actually enjoying himself. He liked the young men's energy and company. And it was obvious they enjoyed each other's company too. It had been a while since he'd seen the three of them enjoying themselves so much... which was ironic, considering what was going to happen that afternoon.

The four of them reached Brunswick village about an hour early. It was a quaint little town situated in a clearing in the woods that bordered the river. With no farmlands around, it was obvious that the little town survived on river trade. The river itself was fairly wide there and the docs were situated just outside the town limits. A wooden pier stretched out about four meters into the water. That was where the ship was going to doc according to Alyss's note.

At a nod from Halt, Will urged Tug to the side to go scout the area and woods around where the ship was going to make landing. It was just a formality. Will had full confidence in Alyss's ability to set this up without gaining any attention from the Scotti diplomat's enemies. That was why they were going to all this trouble after all. Alyss was extremely good at what she did. In fact, Alyss was probably one of the very best couriers that the kingdom had. He felt a smile growing on his face as he thought it... and thought of her.

He guided Tug though the trees, keeping his senses open to catch any sign of trouble. But he saw nothing. The area seemed clear. As he was heading back towards the pier, Tug looked up suddenly to sniff the air, trying to discern some foreign sent that would explain the slight sense of danger and unease he was feeling, but there was nothing.

"Worrywart," Will teased his horse.

There was absolutely nothing around them but pleasant sunny forest and woodland flowers. There were no fresh tracks or typical warning signs. Tug scented again and then rattled his mane. If a horse could be said to shrug then that was what Tug did as he failed to find any sound or scent to explain the sudden sense of danger he had felt— and then the sense itself began to fade away.

"Nothing?" Will asked grinning.

Tug rolled one reproachful eye back on him.

"Imagination getting the best of you?"

 _That's rich, coming from you._

Will let it drop at that. He knew that the little horse always worried about his safety. He also knew that, when it came to Tug, he would never be able to get the last word.

For a moment, Will entertained the idea of skirting the perimeter of the riverbank even further than he had— where the trees and brush grew more thickly off towards the east, but shrugged it off. The immediate area that they'd be in was clear. He scanned the area slowly and carefully to be sure, looking for any movements or signs of anybody's presence and saw nothing. with a slight shrug, he decided to leave it at that. As he had thought earlier, he trusted Alyss, and trusted her ability to set everything up.

Will left Tug with the other horses in the tree line, back near the village, before heading towards the pier where the others were waiting. They were standing near the end of the wooden planking. Halt was looking downriver and Gilan and Horace were discussing something. Will decided that it probably had to do with sword techniques when he saw Horace pass his shield over to Gilan pointing at it and miming a sword cut as he explained something.

Will wove his way through some wooden crates that were set atop the fairly narrow walkway. They were probably goods waiting to be either transported into the town or onto the next river boat. Without them, the pier would have been wide enough for six men to stand abreast.

"Anything?" Halt asked as Will made his way towards them.

Will shook his head. "Nothing."

But he was wrong; hidden unfriendly eyes were watching them. They were eyes belonging to men who had positioned themselves further off to the east where the trees grew more thickly to screen them and where the wind would not carry their scent whilst they waited in ambush. These men were capable assassins, and knew well how to make themselves a part of the background.

The tall Ranger and the knight moved so that they were standing nearly side by side with Will and Halt, Gilan still holding Horace's shield.

"What about on your end?" Will asked.

"The river master said that there has already been one boat that arrived today. And he did receive word that another one will be arriving this afternoon, whether or not that's the Scotti's boat, I'm not sure. Their communication systems aren't exactly state of the art," Halt snorted slightly.

They had turned as they talked so that they were facing away from the river. Will looked towards the little shack on the riverbank that belonged to the river master. Something, suddenly didn't feel right. There was something wrong. He was about to turn back towards Halt when he saw Gilan glance absently up towards the tree line in the east.

The tall Ranger stiffened and Will saw his eyes widen. Then he moved, pushing Will to the ground even as he kicked backwards at Horace's leg so he too fell to the pier's planking. In the same motion, Gilan had thrown Horace's shield spinning upright in front of Halt before attempting to duck himself. Almost instantaneously, arrows came seemingly out of nowhere. They whizzed though the empty space where Horace and Will had just been standing, and an arrow slammed into the thrown shield while it was still airborne and in front of Halt's chest. It clattered to the ground.

The whole thing had happened so fast that Will knew he would have missed everything had he blinked. He stared up in amazement at his friend's lightning reaction, but just as quickly realized that there was something amiss. Gilan had gasped softly and wavered before he had had the chance to get down properly. He stood there in a near daze. Will realized, with a twisting feeling in his chest, that he had gotten hit.

But before he could even reach to pull Gilan down, he saw something that would haunt his memories for years. Another bolt arched out of the air and slammed into the tall Ranger. This time, the blow caused him to stagger backwards, straight off the edge of the pier. Will reached out desperately for his hand to try and catch his friend. Shocked and wide-eyed, Gilan managed to reach out for Will's hand in return as he fell— but it was too late. Gilan—the feathered ends of arrows protruding from his upper chest, shoulder, and arm— was folded into the water's cold embrace. Will stared in horror as Gilan resurfaced several seconds later, floating apparently lifeless and face down, carried swiftly by the current.

"Gilan!" Will screamed in horror filled agony; but that horror and agony was soon replaced with a feeling of boiling over rage.

In that moment he knew what it meant to see red. His eyes swiveled in the direction that the shots had come from. He picked out the emery archers by their movement. They were concealed in hides they had made in the trees fringing the river, hides that he had missed seeing earlier.

His hands had already chosen an arrow from his quiver. It practically leaped onto his bowstring. Heedless of the danger and lost in a red fury, he fired arrow after arrow into the spot where the crossbowmen were concealed. He shot faster than he ever had before. Several cries of pain sounded from the hides in the trees but Will did not even hear them.

Horace only just managed to catch his friend by his tunic and drag him behind the cover of some of the crates that rested on the docs where he and Halt were crouching. More crossbow bolts flew past where Will had just been.

"Get down! What are you doing? Do you have a death wish?" Horace demanded, his shouted words snapping Will out the mindless rage.

"Gil," Will managed to gasp out helplessly.

Halt caught his gaze, then glanced at where the archers were concealed and then back towards the river.

"Go get him," Halt said finally, his voice sounding a little strained and decidedly gruff to Will's ears. "Horace and I will cover for you."

Will felt his moment of blind fury calm further as he caught sight of Halt's steady gaze. The older Ranger selected an arrow and readied his bow.

More crossbow quarrels flew overhead. As soon as they passed, Halt nodded, knowing it would take the men some time to reload their crossbows.

"Now," he shouted, rising from his crouch to shoot at the crossbowmen, pinning them down long enough for Will to break free, cross the peer at a run, and then make the cover of the trees.

He moved through the trees and brush, following the river path, his eyes seeking for any sign of his friend in the water. Soon he was well out of the crossbowmen's range. As he raced parallel to the river, he saw that it split into a little tributary ahead of him. It was much smaller than the main river, but also much faster moving. He could just make out a run of rapids from his position. His heart sank slightly as he realized that the current Gilan had first gotten caught in would have pushed him directly into this deathly fast moving tributary. He increased his speed.

 **~x~X~x~**

Gilan regained consciousness and spluttered, coughing and gasping as he tried to keep his head above water. He had hit his head on something when he had fallen into the river and that, coupled with the shock and pain of being shot, had caused him to lose consciousness for a moment. The world seemed to spin around him as he was pushed by the current.

But, despite the shock of it all, he could see that the river branched ahead of him. The larger branch continued on as it was, but the smaller one cut its way through rocks. It was narrow and much faster running. He thought he could even hear the inexorable crash of rapids. Worse of all, he realized dully that the current was pushing him in just that direction. Desperately, he tried to stroke towards shore and away from the current's pull.

Gilan had always been a strong swimmer, but hindered by the pain and shock, he wasn't strong or fast enough to get to the riverbank before he was dragged into the ceaseless current of the smaller branch. The water frothed and roiled around him as he was swept out of control at a pace that almost rivaled that of a galloping horse.

It was all he could do to keep himself afloat. Sharp rocks jutted from the stream-bed and he was dashed against them. A few of those rocks broke the surface and he tried to catch several of these. But they were covered with a slimy algae and he couldn't get a firm enough grip to withstand the strength of the current. All he got for his efforts were torn and bleeding hands as the press of the water strove to pull him down and keep him under.

He gasped for breath, and choked, stifling a cry as he was slammed into yet another rock. Water was in his mouth, his nose, his ears, and eyes. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only hear the crash and roar of water. Black splotches began to assail his vision.

Dimly, he made out the form of a large rock jutting out ahead of him before he was pushed under again. When he resurfaced, he used the last of his remaining strength to catch a hold of the boulder. He found purchase in a jagged fracture that ran the rock's length. Finally he stopped, the current pressing him into the crack he had so desperately caught hold of and wedging him firmly. The water battered at him, pressing about him like some crushing weight while wavelets splashed against, and collided with, his face. Then his world went dark again.

 **~x~X~x~**

Will scanned the river ahead of him as he ran, his feverish gaze picking out anything that jutted above the frothing surface of the water. For several dreadful moments, all he could see were the tips of rocks and boulders. Then he caught a flash of green and grey pressed against the surface of one of the lager rocks where the current slowed a little.

"Gilan!" Will cried as he sprinted forwards. Then he stopped, turned and ran in the opposite direction. The current was far too fast and strong for him to swim across towards his friend, he knew. So he ran along the bank further upstream before plunging into the water, gasping at the cold. He struck out at an angle, heading towards the middle as the current pushed him downstream. He reached the rock and just managed to catch a hold of it, so that he clung side by side with where his unconscious friend had wedged himself or had been wedged by the current.

For a few horrifying moments, Gilan seemed to be held fast, but he finally came free. Will tried to swim for shore then as he was dragged further and further downstream. Gilan's dead weight nearly pulled him under several times. Then the current began to slow further, it was just a little, but it was enough. He swallowed a mouthful of water as he desperately stroked with all the strength he had towards the bank.

Every muscle ached and his lungs burned. Then he felt his feet touch bottom. He was dragged still further until he found purchase and firm footing. He pulled himself and his friend ashore, laying him down on the rocks and sand of the bank before collapsing to his knees beside him, alternately coughing and panting heavily with exertion. When he caught his breath enough to function again, he turned to the other Ranger who was lying motionless.

Gilan's hair was plastered limply to his head and stained a darker color than normal from the water. His clothes were in a similar state; but what was truly alarming were the red ribbons that trailed from his still form and back into the river, turning pink as they were diffused by the water.

There were many other spots on him that were beginning to take on that same ominous red stain— no doubt from where he had been bashed and cut by the sharp rocks and boulders in the rapid run. Will winced as he reached a tentative hand towards him.

"Gilan?" he asked quietly.

And that was the moment that Will realized that he wasn't breathing.

 **~x~X~x~**

Halt quickly ducked behind cover as several more quarrels flew overhead and slammed into the crate that he and Horace were currently sheltering behind. The river master was either dead or lying low. By now, the Scotti's boat should have arrived. But, considering all that had happened, Halt doubted that it was going to. He knew a set up when he saw one.

There were only four enemies left: but that was more than enough to keep them pinned down. It would be far too dangerous for Halt to try and rise from his crouch to shot again. All their focus was pinpointed on him.

The grizzled Ranger looked towards the knight, whose face clearly showed his frustration with the whole situation and the fact that, armed as he was without any ranged weapons, he wasn't in any sort of position to fight back. Halt, for his part, was just as frustrated. He needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible. He couldn't afford to stay pinned down like this— the life of one of his apprentices could well be at stake, he knew. His eyes looked in the direction of the enemy with a single minded purpose and then narrowed suddenly.

"Do you think you can make it to that crate over there?" Halt asked Horace, gesturing to one that was further forward and across from the place where they now crouched. "I need someone to draw their attention."

The knight considered seriously and then nodded. He prepared himself and then moved. He leaped out from behind cover and then rolled swiftly behind the shelter of the other crate. The crossbowmen took the bait, like Halt had hoped, and focused their attention on the young knight. They moved to train their bows on him and shoot. This left them open to Halt's counter attack, two more of the enemy archers fell, and the remaining two crept backwards, down the tree from the back, and ran. Halt and Horace waited a moment, just to make sure that the threat was truly gone before they rose from behind cover. As one, they headed down the pier, hurrying in the direction that Will had taken only moments before.

 **~x~X~x~**

"Gilan?" Will asked again, his voice cracking slightly with the beginnings of fear. He gently patted Gilan's cheek, trying to get some sort of response. But there was nothing. A twisting feeling of horror, panic, and dread began to take hold inside him. He was momentarily helpless at the sight. His mind froze, refusing to believe what had happened.

"Gil?" he asked again, desperation making his voice rise in pitch. He leaned forward, shaking him. Gilan couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. Ever since he had first become a Ranger, Gilan had been almost a constant presence. To Will he was a larger than life figure, like Halt. In fact, Gilan had a claim to his respect that was second only to Halt. He couldn't be dead. It was just impossible.

He had always been there with that easygoing grin on his face. Like Halt, he always seemed to know what to do, and always seemed to know whenever Will was wrestling with some problem or other. He'd always been there to offer a word of encouragement or advice, a laugh or a smile. Gilan was his friend, he was his family… he was his brother. Will couldn't even imagine losing him, couldn't imagine living without him.

Then he realized, with cold clarity, that he wouldn't have to imagine. That realization made his throat start to close up with a building sense of pain, grief, and loss as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Gilan, wake up!" the agony wrought cry was torn from his lips. "Please wake up. I need… I can't lose…" his words were cut short as he found himself unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

There had to be something he could do ,something to fix this, something to bring him back because this just couldn't be, it couldn't. But he couldn't think of what to do, he didn't know what he could do and the roaring sound of the water caught in the rapids wasn't helping him think… water…

Suddenly, Will found a decisive course of action to take and seized onto it. He turned his friend onto his side and watched a small amount of water flow out of his mouth. That had to be why he could not breathe.

In reality, it had not even been minute since he had pulled Gilan from the river. But to him it felt like hours. Time seemed to stay slowed as he desperately tried to think of a way to get the rest of the water out. And then he had it. He bent over Gilan then, trying to lift him.

 **~x~X~x~**

Halt and Horace had begun to make their way through the woods at a quick pace. Halt stopped suddenly as an anguished cry seemed to echo through the trees. Horace stopped too, his face paling.

"That sounded like Will," he said and Halt nodded, turning to face the origin of the sound, and then setting out at and even faster pace.

The two arrived at the riverbank in time to see Will kneeling, and bent partially over a limp form that he was cradling. He looked up at the sound of Horace and Halt's approach and the expression on his face chilled both the knight and the older Ranger.

"Help me," Will said desperately, his voice catching. And it was then that they could see what it was that he held: the sodden and apparently lifeless body of Gilan. "He isn't breathing."

Halt and Horace raced forwards to kneel beside them. Halt realized what it was that Will was trying to do and Horace was only moments behind him. They helped Will lift Gilan up further and turn him over so that the upper half of his body was hanging slightly upside down.

"Come on, Gilan," Halt muttered, his voice gentle but taught, "don't give up on it yet."

As they moved, Will found himself thinking that, if this didn't work, he could try to breathe air into Gilan's lungs himself. Once they him into the position he wanted, Halt turned to Horace, instructing him to hit Gilan's back. Water spewed out of his mouth and he dragged in a gasping, shuddering, breath, whilst they let out theirs in sheer relief.

Gilan fell into a racking coughing fit as his body tried to expel the last vestiges of water from his lungs. After that finally subsided, he retched out still more river water. Halt gently eased him back down then, settling him on his back.

Gilan's dazed eyes stared ahead in shock as he reached a hand towards his upper chest, feeling the wood shaft embedded there. Will thought he saw a flash of fear mingle with the exhaustion and pain in the tall Ranger's eyes.

"Damn," Gilan breathed as he feebly tried to clutch at the broken bolt. Halt caught his trembling hand and moved it gently away from the wound. "Halt…" he muttered weakly, his eyes beginning to cloud still further.

"Just stay still," Halt said, gripping Gilan's hand. "Horace, build a fire and set my knife in it. Will, go bring the horses and the medical supplies. We need to get those arrows out."

The two moved quickly off to do Halt's bidding. All Will could feel as he headed off was relieved gratitude; Halt would know what to do. Halt always knew what to do. Gilan would be alright— he had to be. Once Will had returned with the supplies and the horses, he was forced to calm a near frantic Blaze before he stood anxiously over Horace who was attempting to get Gilan's tunic and shirt off.

"Will," Halt startled him from his worried thoughts, "while Horace and I get the arrows out, I need you to cut two sturdy branches tall enough to build a litter out of. We can't risk staying here any longer then we have to. There may be more men coming to stop us. Considering how things have turned out, I doubt that they would risk leaving us alive if they could help it. We know too much. Not only that, but they attempted to kill King's Rangers and a knight and failed. They won't be able to let it go at that."

By then, Horace had finished removing Gilan's tunic and shirt and the knife that Halt had placed in the fire was obviously very hot. Halt grabbed it by the hilt while Will set down the bandages, herbs and salve he had taken from the medical kit. Halt knelt by the only partially conscious Ranger's side. He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered himself then nodded once at Horace.

"Hold him down please," he said softly and Horace moved to do so, his face pinched with anxious concern.

"Ready?" Halt asked and Horace nodded.

Will watched for a moment feeling utterly helpless, wanting and yet not wanting to be the one in Horace's place. Realizing that he wasn't helping by just standing there doing nothing, he turned to go get the branches Halt had asked for. As he left the clearing, he strove to close his ears to his friend's broken cry of pain as Halt used the knife to remove the bolt from his chest. Will dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists. He felt sick. He was grateful, in an odd sort of way, when Gilan fell ultimately silent after slipping mercifully into unconsciousness.

As he scoured the woods for branches, all Will could think was that something had gone terribly wrong. They had come here on a straightforward mission to protect a diplomat and had instead found an ambush— an ambush that had definitely been prepared well in advance for them. Now the Scotti's diplomat was without protection and her whereabouts were unknown. But more than that, somebody had known the details of their mission and that somebody wanted them dead.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is super appreciated. Please let me know if you think there is something I can improve on. So no new songs this time, I was mainly focused on building the conflict, but next time there will be—scouts honor XD There will probably be 2-3 chapters left. I got some of my inspiration for this chapter from white water rafting trips I've been on- I love it. I don't know how much white water there is in Araluen (aside from Wild River) so I took some creative licence, but I hope none of you mind.

 **Side note:** CPR wasn't really invented until the 1700's (by The Paris Academy of Sciences) which was why I didn't have Will use that method first- despite it being a better way to resuscitate a drowning victim—Though, John Flanagan's world really does not follow our own exactly when it comes to history—so the Rangers could know about it—Idk. I could definitely change it if any of you think it would be better… I am unfortunately a little bit of a history nerd *sheepish smile*


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A/N:** I really apologize for the delay guys- sorry it took so long. It unfortunately took me a good long while to find a few days to write. School has been pretty nasty lately when it comes to homework, projects, and test- and life has been little kinder XD But I did manage to snag a few days to myself to get his out. I truly hope it proves to be worth the wait.

 **CrazedFangirl13:** That's good to hear. That was just about what I was thinking when I wrote it XD Thanks for the compliment, and the review!

 **Guest:** Thanks so much for the reviews, and the compliment, it really brightened my day to read. I'm glad it came across the way I intended—sometimes that doesn't happen after all X)

 **Meralyin:** I'm not sure I would have been able to live with myself if I had killed him XD Thanks for the review and the kind words! It was really encouraging! :)

 **TrustTheCloak:** Nice one! XD I'm glad you liked it, Thanks so much for the review, it really means a lot!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

It was a silent party that made its way through the woods. The three Ranger horses moved at a much slower pace than usual to accommodate the litter that was currently being dragged at a low angle by a rider-less Blaze.

The one battle horse in the group didn't seem as bothered by slower pace but he, like the other horses and riders, could sense the despondent atmosphere that hung around the group like a dark cloud.

"Here seems as good a spot as any," Halt said finally, reining in at a very small clearing. "I doubt anyone could have trailed us here."

Halt dismounted then and Will and Horace followed suit. Will pointed to a spot near the edge, where a large tree root jutted above the ground to make a comfortable little hollow. Horace nodded with mute understanding and laid the stones for a fireplace. Will meanwhile found some dried leaves and pine needles and laid them near the root to make as soft a bed as possible before spreading a blanket on top of it.

Halt, meanwhile, was tending to the horses and to Blaze's charge in particular. When Horace was finished with the fire, he headed towards where the grizzled Ranger knelt over Gilan. At a nod from the Halt, Horace scooped up the still unconscious Ranger into his arms and carried him towards the makeshift bed near the warmth of the small fire. He set Gilan on top of the blankets before stepping back. Halt moved forwards then and, after checking him over once more, wrapped his former apprentice in the blanket with rare gentleness. At the sight, Will felt his heart both warm slightly and ache.

They had gotten Gilan out of his wet clothes and into dry breeches and a simple shirt. They had removed the arrows, cleaned and applied healing salve to the wounds. His upper chest and arm were bandaged cleanly.

The first arrow had hit towards the very upper left of his chest, near his shoulder, and had, by some miracle, just missed piercing his lung and the major arteries and veins just blow the collar bone—it had still bled quite a lot though. That arrow, and the one in his shoulder hadn't made it completely through, unlike the shot that had pierced his arm. That had made those two much harder and more painful to remove.

When an arrow made it all the way through, like the one that had hit his arm, all that had to be done was to break the head off and pull the shaft out. But that hadn't been an option for the other two, since they had glanced off his bones, so Halt had been forced to use his knife to keep the barbs from catching as he pulled them out the hard way. To make matters even worse, Gilan had also amassed more than his fair share of bruises and gashes from the sharp rocks in the stream. Those also had been cleaned and tended with healing salves and bandages where needed.

Will sat on his haunches near where his friend lay and Halt crouched. He directed concerned eyes towards his mentor, seeking assurance there.

"Will he be alright?" he finally asked.

"He should be able to pull through alright," Halt replied. "The bolts weren't poisoned and the bleeding is under control now. As long as we can keep infection away, he should recover."

Will let out a barely audible sigh of relief.

"But that doesn't answer the biggest question," Halt said then with a trace of anger in his voice, "that being: who set all that up, and what did Alyss have to do with it all?"

And that was the heart of the problem, Will knew. For all intents and purposes, it looked very much like Alyss had betrayed them: specifically sent them into an ambush. But Will refused to believe that it was a simple as that, and he knew Halt didn't either.

Will shook his head slightly; he was having a hard time trying to focus, trying to think.

"Which is why we need to find out what is going on," his mentor stated gently, looking to where Will had set himself down next to his injured friend as if for a long determined vigil. Halt knew that Will wouldn't take very kindly to what he was going to suggest next, but he knew he had to say it. "And, at the moment, I can't think of a man better for the job than you."

"But..." Will started to protest then trailed.

"But, what?" Halt asked him, an eyebrow raised.

Will shifted uncomfortably,

"It's just that, the last time that I was in trouble and hurting, with that warmweed incident, Gilan stayed by me. He was there the whole night to help me through it. It would be the least I could do to do the same for him."

Halt put a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I'm sure Gilan knows that and appreciates it. But the best way for you to help him now would be for you to get to the bottom of all this."

Will saw the truth in his words and was wavering, he knew and Halt took that moment to drive the point home. "Will, think about it, if Gilan were awake, what do you think he would want you to do?"

Will's shoulders slumped as he answered the question in his mind and realized that Halt was right.

"Gil would want me to do my duty," he said reluctantly, but not a bit doubtfully.

Then his thoughts shifted back towards Alyss. He'd been turning the question of how exactly Alyss had been involved in all this over in his mind since Halt had brought it up, and he thought he had the beginnings of an answer. And the more he thought of that, the more his heart sank. The only other logical explanations were unpleasant possibilities—Alyss had been careless and let it slip somehow, she had been overheard, she had been betrayed, or she had been found out and forced to give the information. If any one those options were true, she could be in danger. He felt his face pale slightly at the thought. Alyss could be in just as much danger as Gilan was, though in a different way. He absolutely had to get to her. The thought of her in trouble made him feel sick to his stomach all over again.

"I can watch over him," Horace said softly, having heard the last part of the conversation as he approached.

But Halt shook his head.

"No, I want you to go with Will to Devon Castle; he might need you to support him if he needs to make a hasty retreat."

Horace nodded, seeing the sense in the proposed plan.

"I'll stay here and watch over Gilan," Halt said then.

Will nodded, knowing that Halt would do just that. Rangers were a tight-knit group, and there was a special bond that formed between a master and his student after all. It was a bond that lasted long after the apprentice had graduated.

"Keep off the main roads," Halt added then. "There could still be people out looking for us. You don't need to make it easy for them. And keep your eyes open."

Will nodded again and he and Horace moved to get their horses and any gear they thought they might need. Will felt Halt's hand on his shoulder the moment before he was about to mount Tug.

"Stay safe, Will," Halt said simply and Will nodded mutely, able to read the concern that his mentor hadn't voiced. "You too, Horace," the grizzled Ranger added at the knight.

Horace nodded back—none of them feeling the heart to smile or poke fun like they usually might.

As Halt watched them leave, he settled down by the fire near where his first apprentice lay motionless. The air had gotten progressively cooler as the sun began to set. Noting this, Halt draped his own blanket over Gilan's, knowing that he needed to keep him warm.

He sat back again then, studying his former apprentice's too pale face, the slight grimace of pain that marked it even in sleep, the way his breath occasionally hitched or ended in a soft barely audible groan. It tore at his heart to see him like this. He reached under the blankets and took the young man's bandaged right hand gently in his.

"I'm right here, Gilan," he said softly, "and I'll stay for as long as you need. You pull through for me, alright?"

Gilan's hand twitched fractionally and, for the briefest of moments, Halt thought he saw his former apprentice's mouth tilt up slightly at the corners. In that moment Halt half expected him to say some cheerful rejoinder to his words, _"getting sentimental in your old age, Halt?"_ The thought made an echo of that ghost smile appear on his own face— though it was mixed with a twinge of sorrow, because Gilan was too hurt to speak. In the end, Halt merely contended himself with fancying that he had heard it.

 **~x~X~x~**

Horace and Will were unusually quiet on the ride to Devon castle, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, as they were nearing their destination, Horace broke the silence.

"I can't imagine Alyss betraying us like that. It just doesn't make any sense."

Will only nodded, his expression grim.

"There has to be some sort of misunderstanding."

Again Will nodded. Alyss's note seemed to be weighing heavily in the breast of his jerkin. They both reigned in at the treeline and dismounted. The dark shadow of the walls and towers of Devon Castle were silhouetted against the twilight sky overhead.

"You wait here, and I'll see if I can't sneak inside and find Alyss."

Horace nodded. With so many unknowns, it wouldn't be wise for either of them to just knock on the castle doors and demand to be let it, he knew.

"Just call if you need me, and I'll storm the castle to rescue you," Horace said, and it was only partially in jest.

"I'd call just to see that," Will said, managing a smile for the first time that night, before heading off.

He approached the castle carefully and then lay low in some convenient long grass. He stayed still, accustoming himself with the scene of everything around him and especially with the movements of the sentries keeping watch and patrolling the ramparts.

Once he had familiarized himself with it, he moved forwards again. He headed towards the shadowed bulk of the castle, moving with the shadows cast by the scudding clouds overhead. He used his Ranger training, which had become almost second nature to him, to approach the outer wall unseen.

The huge blocks of stones that made up the outer wall did not have very large gaps between them but they were large enough for Will. He carefully began scaling it. Once he was about a meter from the top of the crenellated battlements, he stopped as a sentry paced parallel to his position. The soft _chinck_ of his chainmail carried clearly to Will's ears and he listened carefully as the soldier passed.

Once he was certain the man had moved far enough away, Will cautiously eased himself over the wall. He landed in a crouch, freezing in place until he was certain that no eyes had seen him or were on him. He made his way down from the battlements, securing himself in a place where he could watch the guard movements on the inside.

A short while later found him inside the castle, making his way up the stairs of the central tower, which was used as the living quarters and to house any guests. He was dressed in the livery of a castle servant that he had found in the laundry room on the way in.

But that was not the only thing helping him. Though he had not planned it quite that way, his timing in infiltrating the castle had been impeccable. He had discovered, as soon as he had arrived in the main body of the castle, that he had broken in just as everyone was beginning to sit at banquet. There were few about to see him. And the few who did paid him no mind.

 _If you look and act like you belong, very few will question you,_ Halt had told him before and he had been right.

Will made a guess of the general area that he suspected Alyss would be quartered in. She was an official officer negotiating on behest of the king— she would be given a nice room.

There were a few of these to choose from, and he poked his head into two of the empty ones with no luck. The third room he tried, however, he knew belonged to her; he recognized some of her things.

He made his way inside, re-donning his Ranger cloak and moving to a shadowed corner of the room in order to wait for her to return. It did not take long. About a half an hour later, he heard light footsteps heading to the door. It opened to reveal Alyss in her white Courier's gown. He felt an odd twisting sensation in his chest as he saw her. He needed to know that she was alright, needed to know what was going on. As soon as she had shut the door behind her, he moved forward from the shadows. She startled slightly when she saw him.

"Will," she said after a few seconds.

She relaxed instantly when she recognized him—relaxed maybe, but she didn't smile like she usually did whenever she saw him, she didn't embrace him. Instead she stood a little stiffly, a small amount of anger bleeding through her neutral expression.

"Where were you?" she demanded and, though her tone was level, there was ice in it."You weren't there to meet the diplomat, but her enemies certainly were. I've gotten word that she's been taken! The peace talks are at a complete standstill. Worse than that, there is only so long that we can cover for it before her kinsmen find out. We are on the brink of all out hostility between our two countries, maybe even war. Why weren't you Halt and Horace there to meet her? It's like you didn't even try to follow the instructions in my letter!"

But now it was Will's turn to feel a rush of anger, anger that had been seething for a long time in response to his earlier fears and fury, now kindled abruptly by her accusing tone and words.

"Your letter nearly killed Gilan! And it would have killed Horace, Halt, and me too, if Gilan hadn't seen that ambush line when he did!"

"Ambush?" Alyss recoiled slightly.

"Yes, ambush. We were there exactly when you specified and there was no ship, only a line of men with crossbows." He pulled her letter from the breast of his jerkin and handed it to her.

She took it wordlessly.

"I was hoping that you could tell me why that was," he said then, his still angry, but not at her—this wasn't her fault after all, he knew that.

"I don't understand how that could have happened," she replied, her voice slightly breathy with shock. "My team and I were very careful in planning this; we made sure we weren't overheard." As she said it, her eyes scanned the parchment and she frowned, "This looks like my handwriting, but the time on it isn't right. The Scotti's boat was supposed to arrive at midday."

"You're sure you wrote it right?" Will asked, though he already knew the answer. If she had, then there could only be one explanation as to how all this happened.

Alyss didn't answer him, her eyes fixed levelly on him.

"Of course you did," he said moving his hands in a peacemaking gesture. Then he added, "Did anyone other than you have access to the letter before it was sent?"

"Well… yes," Alyss admitted, but then hastily added, "but it can't believe that it was him; he's been working with the Couriers, and me, for years now. I trusted him."

"Who," Will asked.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the door opened suddenly. Three men, one of whom Will recognized as having worked with Alyss before, stepped into the room.

"Sorry for barging in my lady," the first— John, Will remembered his name was—said, "It's just that I have something absolutely urgent that…" He trailed as soon as his eyes lit on Will and then on the letter that Alyss still held in her hand. His moment of surprise soon passed however. And just like that his demeanor changed. He dropped the obviously false air or concern he had come in with and then sneered.

"Well then," he said heavily, "I see there's no point in me trying to make the excuse I prepared now that the Ranger has gotten to you first." He turned to Will. "It really is a pity my men didn't manage to kill all of your party when they had a chance—you've turned out to be much more trouble than your worth. I've been scrambling to find a way to cover it all up ever since my assassins returned, saying that they probably missed two of you."

As he spoke, he drew his sword and the other man at his back raised a loaded crossbow, the third raced away—probably intent of finding more people who were allied with their cause.

Will had been just a quick as quick as John, though. He had already knocked an arrow and had his bow at full draw. The same burning anger from earlier was boiling just under the surface of his calm exterior. This man had betrayed his kingdom, betrayed Alyss, hurt Gilan, had very nearly killed Halt, Horace and himself, and, on top of it all, had the nerve to taunt and act condescending.

"But I suppose I'll just have to finish the job now," John said airily, "before word gets out any further."

"So you did betray us," Alyss said coldly. "Why?"

"Let's just say that it's because war, under the right conditions, happens to be more profitable than peace."

"This was all for money?" Will asked through gritted teeth, disgusted.

"Well, not only," John said, but didn't elaborate.

The two men faced each other silently, each recognizing that they were currently at an impasse. All four of them were too far from suitable cover. If Will shot John, the crossbow men could shoot at either him or Alyss, and if he shot at the crossbow man, John, since he was hardly more than two meters from him, might have enough time to get in with his sword before Will could shoot again— fast as he was.

Will also recognized that this impasse couldn't be allowed to last for much longer. The third man who had escaped made certain of that. He had no idea how many of the people in Devon Castle were allied with John and they couldn't afford to wait and find out. That put Alyss and himself at a slight disadvantage. They needed to get out while it was still an option.

"Alyss," he said quietly, "see if that rope will reach to the ground outside." He inclined his head towards some thickly coiled hemp that lay near the corner of the room. He knew that getting out through the door was an impossibility, so the window was their only option.

"If she moves, I'll shoot her!" the crossbow man threatened.

"If you shoot her, I'll shoot your friend and then, if I'm fast enough, I might get you too, before you can reload," Will said coolly.

The crossbow man assessed that threat for a moment, meeting Will's steady, angry gaze. What he saw there made him quail. He didn't move.

Alyss had taken stock of the situation too and moved to do as Will had asked—securing the rope to something solid before tossing it out of the window. It was long enough. She felt herself trembling slightly. This whole situation was sickeningly familiar to one she had once faced as a prisoner in Norgate Fief. She remembered distinctly that she had missed a chance to escape then because she had been too afraid of heights to make it down the rope in time.

She had promised herself then that, should any such situation arise again, she would not let fear get the better of her and allow herself to hesitate. It was time to make good on that self promise, she knew. Will was aware of how much she hated heights, and he wouldn't have asked her to do this unless he knew there was no other way. Besides, this was not going to be as bad as the tower in Norgate; this room was only three stories high, after all, she tried to tell herself. And she had managed to get down from a higher precipice than this by rope before in Nihon-Ja. She could do this. She clenched her fists, and felt a cold sweat begging to bead her brow.

"It reaches," she called to Will.

"Good, I want you to start making you way down it, alright?"

She could hear the concern in his voice and it helped to steady her nerves slightly.

"I can," she said decisively, as much to convince herself as him.

"Shout when you're down," he said.

She made her way to the ledge gripping the rope fiercely, whilst telling herself over and over not to look down. As she prepared herself, she saw Will edging backwards towards her. The window was a fairly large one, low enough to the floor so that it was at hip height and the top was high enough so that someone of Will's height might be able to stand fairly upright in the opening.

Alyss took a deep breath and then began her decent. Her progress was slow, but steady and soon she was on the ground. She shouted, and then watched with bated breath as the silhouette of Will moved carefully so that he was standing upon the sill in a low crouch, his bow still pointed at the two traitors in the room.

Suddenly he moved, throwing himself to the side so he was away from the open window and perching precariously on the outermost edge of the stone lip that framed the base of the window from outside. She saw a crossbow bolt fly through the open window space where he'd just been. Will moved again, with lightning speed, after he heard the smack of the crossbow being released, back into the open to grab the rope and begin his own decent— moving much more surly and faster than she had done.

She saw the taught rope quiver and someone, John probably, moved to cut it. But the rope was thick. He didn't make it all the way through before Will was already safely on the ground. He grabbed her hand and they ran. Once they reached the gate, Will used his Ranger name and authority to full advantage to get the sentry on duty to open the gate for them. Soon they were running on the open planes outside the castle. They had made it more than halfway across before a mounted soldier came riding in pursuit of them.

The rider closed the distance between them fairly rapidly. He was about to run them down and Will moved to un-sling his bow. Horace, however, was quicker. He'd been watching their progress and burst through the tree line to intercept the mounted soldier—interposing himself in between the soldier and his two friends.

Their swords met in a ringing clash of steel. The battle between them was short; Horace obviously had the edge when it came to blade work. Horace was able to knock the man's third side cut aside and then bring the hilt of his own cavalry sword crashing into the man's jaw before he could recover enough to parry. He slumped off his horse unconscious.

"I've wanted to do that to someone all day," Horace said, glancing at the downed soldier.

"I know the feeling," Will said, smiling ruefully, and then added, "thanks."

"Will!"Alyss pointed back the way they had come.

Even from that distance, the three of them could see some more soldiers leaving the castle. It was too far and too dark to try shooting at them, Will knew. Horace, knowing that also, gave Alyss and hand up, so she could sit behind him. Will retrieved and mounted Tug. Together, the three of them rode into the forest, disappearing into the trees.

 **~x~X~x~**

They arrived at their little camp in the dark of the very small hours of the morning—after making sure they had both outdistanced and thrown any pursuit. The three of them dismounted into the small fire-lit clearing. Halt rose to greet them from where he had been sitting.

"How's Gilan?" Will asked immediately, as he moved forwards. "Is he any better?" he finished in a rush, his tone hopeful.

Horace looked up expectantly at the question, also wanting to know the answer. The brightness in Will's eyes faded a little when he took in Halt's expression.

"He's about the same as he was when you left." Halt said finally.

Will's shoulders slumped and he made his way over to where Gilan lay, wrapped in blankets near the fire, still and nearly lifeless aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Will brushed his fingertips feather lightly along edge of the think bandage that swathed his upper chest and shoulder which he could just see under Gilan's light, unlaced, shirt. His friend didn't respond at all and Will felt his heart sink slightly. He bowed his head. Then he felt a presence beside him, and looked up into his mentor's dark eyes.

"You have to give it time," Halt said softly.

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Will replied, knowing, and hating, that his mentor was right. He pulled the blankets more snugly about his friend's shoulders.

He listened absently while Alyss and Horace explained the situation as they knew it to Halt. He was content, in that moment, to let them do the talking. After a while, he felt another presence beside him and turned to see Alyss.

"Will, I didn't get the chance to tell you this earlier, because everything was just so..." she trailed, then tried again, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm so sorry," she said as she knelt beside him. "I had no idea about John or the ambush. If I'd known I…"

He could see that tears were not far from her eyes and he touched her hand to calm her.

"I know," he said softly. "I'm just glad that you're alright."

He gave her hand a light squeeze and leaned slightly towards her so that their shoulders were brushing, and she responded in kind. For a while they simply sat there, neither of them speaking—both lending the other quiet support and comfort.

Finally, Alyss took a breath. "Is there anything I can do for him?" She gestured towards Gilan. "Or you?" she added.

But Will shook his head. "Halt says that all we can do is wait now." he paused for a moment then added with a smile. "You could get some sleep for me though— here take my cloak; I'm warm enough here by the fire, and you didn't get the chance to get anything for yourself before we left, after all."

"Alright, If you're sure," Alyss said then, accepting his wool cloak. "You should try to get some sleep too," she suggested quietly, but again Will shook his head.

Alyss shrugged slightly, she had expected as much. She was about to leave but stopped short and frowned as Gilan suddenly shuddered and then muttered softly as he shifted uncomfortably. She gently put one cool, soothing, hand on his forehead and her other on the uninjured side of his chest to calm him and keep him still so that he would not aggravate his injuries. She saw that Will had moved to grip the taller Ranger's bandaged hand reassuringly, speaking softly to him. Gilan quieted, seeming to relax at their touch and the sound of Will's voice. Soon he was lying as still and unresponsive as before.

Alyss exchanged a sorrowful glance with Will. She liked Gilan; he had her respect, and he also had her friendship. Needless to say, she didn't like seeing him this way—and she liked even less that she'd had a hand, however unwitting, in the events that had rendered him thus.

Sighing, she rose to her feet, situated herself on the other side of the campfire, and lay down to sleep. She yawned, watching as Halt and Horace set the watch for what little was left of the night—dividing it between the two of them so that Will could watch over Gilan. As reunions went, this had started out as a pretty poor one, she thought then, grimly. It did not take much longer after that for her to fall asleep.

 **~x~X~x~**

Will woke with a guilty start, realizing that he had fallen asleep. It had been full dark but now light was creeping over the eastern horizon. He looked over at Gilan, fearing to see that he'd gotten worse and hoping that he'd gotten better all at once.

There was still nothing, still no change. Somehow, that seemed almost worse than the other two options.

A sudden worried thought struck him and he reached out a tentative hand to feel his friend's forehead. It was warm but not feverish. He relaxed and then sat back on his haunches, feeling useless. As Halt had said, there was nothing to be done but wait.

He tried that for a moment but soon became restless. He just felt he needed to do something. He glanced sidelong at his mandola case. That would give him something to do and Gilan liked his paying. Maybe it would even help him in some way.

He had another song that he was working on. He had a moment of misgiving as he thought of Halt and Horace's reaction to his other songs and then shrugged. It was not as if Gilan could really hear him.

He brought his instrument into playing position and began quietly tuning it. He strummed a few experimental chords, going over the words in his mind. He went over some verse corrections until he settled on one he really liked. Then he launched into his latest parody: a song he'd entitled _Gilan Was Never_.

 _Gilan was never a respectable lad,_

 _His tongue tells tales of mischief._

 _But he was so very quick with his bow,_

 _No one ever sees him coming._

 _._

 _Gilan was never the most passive of lads,_

 _Pulling pranks and acting recklessly._

 _He was born to the ways of nobler men,_

 _But quickly chose to leave them._

 _._

 _He'd forever like to say,_

 _"Why stand still when you can seize the day?"_

 _Always he'll fight in the Ranger's way._

 _He's a devious rouge and that's how he'll stay._

 _._

 _Gilan was never quite the wealthiest lad,_

 _Some say he lives in a pine tree._

 _But he was so very quick with his bow,_

 _Arrows strike like a banshee._

 _._

 _Gilan was never quite the gentlest lad_

 _His sword skills sharp as a razor._

 _He knew the ways of commoner men,_

 _And knew just how to outwit them._

 _._

 _He'd forever like to say,_

 _"Why stand still when you can seize the day?"_

 _Always he'll fight in the Ranger's way._

 _He's a devious rouge and that's how he'll stay._

As soon as he finished playing, and the last note drifted off into the early morning, he became aware of another sound—soft laughter. He jerked his head up and looked to the side to see that Gilan was awake—pale faced and weary, but awake. The tall Ranger's eyes were bright and practically sparking with amusement. His mouth was tilted upwards in that familiar grin of his.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Only two more chapters left. I hope you all have a brilliant rest of the month! I really appreciate feedback, don't hesitate to let me know if you see anything that I can improve. (I've never really written Alyss before, so I hope she came across as being in character...) *nervously chews off all my nails* XD I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I possibly can. Here's to more mild amounts of schoolwork and good health!

*side note* I wrote Gilan's song to the tune of Sera Was Never from Dragon Age (It's hilarious X)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **A/N:** I am terribly sorry for the long delay. Life sort of swallowed me whole and I only recently escaped. I really hope that this chapter can come close to making up for it, and that you can forgive me for taking so long. Thanks for reading.

 **Lala the Screaming Fangirl:** I'm really glad you liked it. Thanks so much for the review, it totally made my day!

 **TrustTheCloak:** Thanks for the compliment. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Thanks also for the review!

 **Bronzeoak:** I've always wished we got more of his parodies too (I'm sure poor Halt can't have been Will's only victim) Thanks so much for the review, it was really encouraging.

Also special thanks to: **Guest** , **I R. Apprentice,** and **Little Wishlet**.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Will couldn't contain his own smile at the sight of his friend wide awake and fully coherent. He felt most of his previous worries fading away.

"Gilan, you're awake!"

"And the sight I wake up to is almost as bad as the song," Gilan said, only just managing to keep a straight face.

Though his voice was much softer and more careful than usual, as well as hoarse, it was fairly strong.

"Liar. You're just saying that because you're too embarrassed to admit that you love both… though maybe not equally," Will replied with an air of pride.

"You're right. I did love the song just a touch more than the sight of you so early in the morning."

Will feigned indignance at the insult and looked away disdainfully.

"I'll have you know that you are just as much of an early morning shock as I am—if not more so." His near perfectly affronted front, however, was somewhat spoiled by his inability to hide his own smile.

Gilan, who had opened his mouth to reply, glanced down at himself, winced, and then looked back at Will. "On this one occasion, you might actually be right."

Will laughed. Gilan smiled and then winced again slightly, as he gestured carefully towards Will's mandola with his relatively good arm.

"I've never been personally serenaded before," he said in mock awe, "and I've never felt so honored." His voice then dropped into a tone of friendly seriousness. "You should count yourself lucky that you woke me up instead of Halt. He gets a little touchy when you disturb his sleep, you know."

Will had to agree with that.

"Otherwise that tree over there would be beckoning longingly for you, I think," Gilan finished.

Will felt slightly crestfallen. "You knew about that?"

"How could I not? It's a favorite tale among Rangers," Gilan said, looking annoyingly pleased before he glanced to where Halt lay wrapped in his cloak. "On second thought, I think our dear old master has gotten enough beauty sleep. We can't have him outshining Lady Pauline after all. Perhaps you should play again, but louder. How about _Greybeard Halt_?"

Both of them grinned devilishly at each other.

"There is room in that tree for two, you know," Halt's voice said clearly from where he lay, a warning note to it.

"I'd certainly love to see that," Horace, who had been on watch, said unhelpfully as he moved into the camp to sit next to Will.

"Traitor," Will accused.

"It's no more that you deserve for writing that awful _Lock the Pantry_ song," Horace said, but he was smiling.

" _Lock the Pantry_?" Gilan asked innocently, all too obviously innocently.

Halt, who had gotten to his feet, went to join the other two. Gilan tried to carefully shift position to face them better, and paled as trying obviously hurt him. He lay back the way he had been and closed his eyes for a moment, grimacing.

"It's good to see you awake," Halt said, gently placing a hand on his former apprentice's un-bandaged shoulder.

"That goes for me too," Horace added. "Thank you, for what you did back there," he said, his voice now fully serious and earnest.

The tall Ranger tried to brush it off. "You'd have done the same, I'm sure."

Horace smiled a little at that and shook his head. "I certainly might have tried. But I'm not totally sure I could've pulled it off."

Halt and Will added their own thanks to Horace's; Gilan ducked his head slightly in acknowledgement, embarrassed.

"You did well, Gilan, to spot that ambush line," Halt put in. And, when the young man's face showed his obvious pleasure at the rare praise from Halt, the grizzled Ranger couldn't help but add, "Although, I don't recall ever teaching you that it would be a good idea to become a pincushion and nearly drown yourself to do it."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't intend to do that ever again if I can help it," Gilan replied, with some feeling.

"How are you feeling?" Halt asked then.

"Like I got shot and bashed about in the river," the injured Ranger said with a rueful smile, "but fairly alright, considering."

Halt nodded.

It was then that Alyss rose to her feet, still wrapped in Will's cloak. Their conversation had woken her and she made her way towards their little group.

Gilan caught sight of her and his eyebrows went up in mild surprise.

"I think I might have missed something fairly important. How long was I out?"

Alyss moved to join them, her concerned expression turning into a smile when she saw that Gilan was awake.

"Hello, stranger. I'm glad to see you're feeling better. You had me worried," she said, weaving her way through to sit beside him too.

Will and the others began to fill Gilan in on everything that had happened and everything that they knew. When they were finished, Halt noticed that his former apprentice was looking fairly exhausted. He still needed to rest so the wounds could heal properly, Halt knew. So he called the rest of them away so that the injured Ranger could have some relative quiet to sleep. Alyss was the last to leave.

"Gilan?" she asked softly, and his tired eyes focused on her slowly.

"Will tells me that you saved his life yesterday, Horace and Halt too. I just wanted to let you know that I can hardly thank you enough for what you did. It means more to me than you could ever know and I won't ever forget it. Thank you," she said, leaning forwards to kiss his cheek.

His face lit with a smile that still lingered very slightly at the corners of his lips as his eyes started to slip closed. At the sight of it, Alyss could not keep an echo of it from appearing on her own lips.

Will smiled too as he saw it and then felt a frown beginning to take its place. Now that things had calmed down, they knew their enemy, and Gilan was on the mend, he had found himself with more time to think. His frown deepened. It was mainly John's fault that everything had gone so wrong. He had betrayed Alyss and he had set up that ambush, after all. But Will was starting to realize something, and it was a painful realization: it wasn't wholly John's fault that Gilan had been injured.

Will realized that part of the blame rested with him. He'd been responsible for checking the area beforehand, and he'd missed seeing the men hidden in ambush. If he had been a little more careful, thorough, or observant it might not have happened.

The truth was that he'd failed—and Gilan had been the one to pay the price for that failure.

"Are you alright?" Horace's voice broke through his troubled thoughts.

"Fine," Will said, managing a smile. It felt false on his face. "I was just thinking."

"Hopefully about ways to save the diplomat, and stop John and his allies before war breaks out between us and the Scotti," Halt said mildly.

"You intend to stop him and fix all this?" Alyss asked, surprised. "How?"

"Between all of us here, I'm sure we'll be able to think of something. And if the four of us can't come up with anything, we could always enlist the help of _sleeping_ _beauty_ there," Halt said nodding his head in Gilan's direction. "On rare occasions he surprises me by coming up with an idea that could almost be considered good."

"Just so long as it isn't you who tries to kiss me awake," Gilan replied solemnly from across the way without opening his eyes.

Will saw Horace and Alyss smile, but couldn't bring himself to do the same as his gaze landed on where Gilan lay wrapped in his blanket. He switched his attention back to Halt as the older Ranger continued.

"Besides, I'm not about to let this John and his men get away with starting a war."

And Will decided that he wasn't going to either. He had to make this right, for the sake of the peace talks and Araluen…and for Gilan.

"In order to do that, we first would have to find the diplomat—if they haven't killed her already," Horace was saying, frowning, "and then we'd have to just hope she'd still be willing to negotiate after everything…"

"Let's assume for now that she is alive and focus on that problem first," Halt said.

Alyss nodded, "If she's still alive, I doubt John and his men would keep her at the castle. Aside from the obvious, the harvest feast festival was supposed to start today and, so far as I know, it hasn't been canceled."

Will knew of this, the Baron of Devon held the feast every year at this time, he'd invite the villagers into the walls of his castle for the celebration where there'd be entertainment, vendors' stalls, and games set out for the people to enjoy.

"With so many people around, it'd be impractical to keep the Scotti's diplomat there where someone might stumble across her, or their plot. They would have her moved somewhere else."

Halt agreed with Alyss and said something else, but Will failed to hear it. His mind had focused in on the mention of the festival. Something about that fact was significant to him. He found himself standing as he paced away, the vaguest shape of an idea hanging in the corner of his mind, just waiting to be formed.

"Care to share Will?" Horace asked him, grinning.

He knew Will well and knew also that, whenever he started acting like this, he was usually coming up with some brilliant scheme or other. Will startled in surprise as Horace's words jolted him out of his revelry.

"Oh, um, yes." He said finally. "It's just an idea I was having... I haven't worked out all the details of it just yet."

Everyone made a gesture for him to continue and Will, after hesitating for a moment, obliged. They didn't have enough time for him to flesh out all the details on his own. They needed to act soon. Also, he was surrounded by good minds and he trusted them to fill in any details he hadn't gotten to yet.

"You said that the harvest festival was going on. The Baron of Devon invites all the villagers into his castle for the festival and hires, and allows in, all sorts of entertainment as well as vendors, right?"

They nodded.

"Well I was thinking that that just might give us a way in." He pointed to his mandola. "If Alyss, Horace, and I disguise ourselves as a troupe of musicians, we can get into the castle easily enough."

"But John was a Courier," Alyss said, "he would have told his men to expect us to try something like that. We'd be recognized and then we'd be targets."

"I'm counting on that," Will said.

He saw two pairs of eyes look up at him in surprise. Only Halt was looking at him calmly. The grizzled Ranger thought he had an idea where Will was going with this.

"You want them to try and kill us?" Horace asked, incredulously.

"Yes, if it means they'll reveal themselves. Alyss, you remember what John said: his assassins reported that they'd missed two of us. They've seen Horace and me and they know that you are with us, and that means they think that they've killed both Halt and Gilan."

Alyss was starting to catch on. "So when they reveal themselves to get rid of us, Halt can be waiting for it and get to them first."

Will nodded. "All we need is to capture one of them in order to find out what they've done with the Scotti's diplomat."

"Wait," Horace said, interrupting, "You said that you Alyss and I will disguise as musicians?"

And when Will nodded, Horace continued.

"But Will, I don't know how to play any instruments, and I'm not especially good at singing either."

"I know," Will said, smiling at Horace, "but I figured that even a knight like you should be able to hit a drum."

Horace seemed to think about that seriously for a moment then nodded agreeably. "Yes, I think I could do that."

"Then it's settled," Will said, turning to look at Halt to see what he thought.

"It's a well conceived plan," Halt said. "There is just one problem."

Will made a gesture for Halt to continue.

"The problem is that for John and his friends to operate as freely as they have been, they have to have someone at Devon Castle in on their scheme. And judging by how they sent some soldiers after you last night, it has to be someone of high rank. If we try this idea of yours Will, we are going to have to stay careful and alert. We can't afford to expect help from anyone on the inside. We'd be on our own; and we'd have to get in and out quickly, cleanly, and without notice by anyone else."

"I have a thought about that," Alyss said.

 **~x~X~x~**

Late that afternoon a troupe of players dressed in bight eye-catching clothes made their way inside the walls of Devon Castle, pulling a handcart that was painted in the same colors as their garb behind them. Shortly after their arrival, a simply dressed forester made his unobtrusive way in with a group of villagers.

"I feel like an idiot," Horace grumbled softly as he pulled the colored cart that contained Will's mandola and the drum they had gotten from Alyss's contact in Brunswick. That was also where they had gotten the colorful clothing and the cart itself. The clothes and cart did help them look the part, but the handcart was also Alyss's idea for getting whatever assassin Halt would capture out quickly and without notice.

Horace's sword and Will's bow were currently concealed in the cart as well. Horace found himself feeling a little naked without its usual weight at his hip… but players usually didn't wield longswords. Unfortunately for Horace, the lack of his sword wasn't the only think making him feel ill at ease. He resisted the urge to tug at the brightly colored hose he wore as it chafed uncomfortably.

"It's all part of the disguise," Alyss said warningly in answer to his earlier complaint, without turning around to look at him. Her voice was pitched low so that only they could hear, "just go with it."

"Hard to go anywhere with it," Horace grumbled, using all his will power not to tear the annoying tights to pieces. He was also sure that he and Will looked absolutely ridiculous. "Why do you jongleurs insist on dressing like this?" he suddenly asked Will in a whisper, almost as an afterthought.

"How should I know?" Will replied, a little more shortly than he had meant to.

"Well, I just thought that…" Horace trailed when Will turned around slightly to glare at him.

Truthfully, Will was as uncomfortable as his friend was. He was used to drab grays and browns. Even when he had posed as a jongleur, he hadn't worn such flamboyant colors as he was wearing now. He felt a little out of place because of it, and as naked without his longbow as Horace felt without his sword. Besides that, his mind was still filled with his earlier troubled and guilty thoughts, as well as a slight worry for Gilan. They had had to leave him behind at their camp, alone aside from Blaze. Then he felt a little guilty for his short response. Horace hadn't deserved that.

"Just because I've disguised as a jongleur before, doesn't mean I know why they choose what they do when it comes to fashion," he said in a more agreeable tone, shrugging.

"It's really not all that bad," Alyss said, interrupting their discussion before it went any further.

"That's easy for you to say. Your clothes don't look half as bad or uncomfortable as ours," Will told her, and he was right.

She was wearing an attractive dress that was rendered beautiful in its simple lines and rural style. The bright colors didn't looks so terrible on her, he thought… and it looked all the better because she wore it so well.

His thoughts were interrupted as they rounded the corner to the empty space near the left wall where they had been told they could set up and perform. On their way in, they had walked past several vendors and a few scattered performers who attracted small crowds of watchers as they wandered through the festival. The castle was nearly completely filled. Most open spots had already been taken. The three quickly set up their space, Will tuning his mandola and Horace bringing out the drum he was going to use.

They had rehearsed as much as they could, considering the short notice... but that hadn't been all that much. Their performances probably weren't going to be the best by any means, but that wasn't the true point of this exercise after all.

Once they were ready, Will caught sight of Halt who had positioned himself near a crowd surrounding a pastry vendor, where he had a good vantage of the castle courtyard; and especially the area around Will, Alyss and Horace. Will caught Halt's eye and saw the Ranger nod once at them: their cue to begin.

 **~x~X~x~**

Gilan tossed uncomfortably atop his blankets, his mind locked in a fitful slumber that was not helped by his pain. He saw confused images parading around his head: the ambush, the white water, Will, Horace, Alyss and Halt, along with jumbled memories of his past—from before he had started training under Halt. His father had been teaching him…making him memorize the crests of royal and noble families and famous knights. It was something that nobles and knights were expected to know after all. He still remembered most of them and he could see them dimly in his dreams. The Baron of Devon castle had a sunburst over a field of red as his device and his Battlemster had a nettle over a tawny field.

Gilan muttered uneasily, shifting again. Something was wrong about that; there was something significant, something he was missing. His eyes came open tiredly and he lay there, puzzling over his confused thoughts and dreams. He tried to remember exactly what it was that he had been thinking about before he had fallen asleep and then it came to him.

Before the others had left him alone, Halt had made sure that he would have plenty of water and firewood within close reach. Gilan had been sleeping fitfully at the time, only vaguely aware of his old mentor's movements. He remembered that Halt had just finished putting an extra folded blanket near his head when a thought had obviously occurred to him.

"Alyss," Halt had asked, turning to look behind him. His question had woken Gilan fully from the partial slumber that he'd been in and he had listened absently as they talked, watching them through half-lidded eyes.

"Yes Halt?" Alyss had asked.

"You said it was John who betrayed you. I was wondering which one it was."

John, after all, was a fairly common name and Halt had known, as Gilan did, that Alyss had had two Johns that worked with her; one had been with her for many years and the other for only about two.

"John Macleod," she had said, naming the one who had only been with her for a few years.

Halt had nodded, his eyes narrowing. "What is the Scotti's diplomat's name?"

"Rhona MacKinnon," Alyss had replied promptly. "Is there something significant in that?"

"It might be nothing," Halt had admitted, "but I seem to recall that, in Picta, the MacKinnon and Macleod clans have been feuding for quite some time and that the MacKinnons have recently taken the Macleods' spot as head of all the clans. Also, your John's parents moved from Picta to Araluen when he was young, if I recall correctly."

"So you think there could still be some ties there?"

"Maybe," Halt had said, "I know that just having a surname that's the same as a clan name doesn't automatically guarantee that a person is from the clan or connected with it, but it is possible."

"And, it gives us more of a motive, if that's true," Will who had been listening in had said thoughtfully. "John could get revenge on the clan he and his family hate and then be in a position to profit from any war that might break out between us and the Scotti."

Gilan had thought about that conversation for a while after they had left. His last thoughts, before he had fallen back to sleep, had been about coats of arms. His eyes widened as he realized what it was that had been bothering him so much: the Battlemaster of Devon fief had a nettle as the device on his shield.

The insignias that adorned knights' shields could be given to them as a sign of their own deeds or valor, such as how Sir Rodney and Horace had gotten theirs, but they could also be passed down through families.

Gilan's old sword master MacNeil had told him of the feuding MacKinnon and Macleod's when he'd been instructing Gilan in Scotti sword forms. MacNeil was an old northerner and knew quite a lot about the Scotti. Gilan remembered him saying that each clan had a specific pattern of tartan that was theirs, as well as a specific insignia. The Macleod's device was a nettle. The Battlemaster of Devon had that same device on his shield, and Halt had said earlier that he thought that there was probably a high ranking person in Devon Castle in on this whole scheme.

Halt had also thought that perhaps John still had close ties with the Macleod clan. It was more than possible that the Battlemaster of Devon had old family connections with the Macleods as well. Perhaps that had been enough to procure his services in John's scheme. It was all purely conjecture, he knew. All of that could simply be a coincidence; but Halt had taught him to always be suspicious of coincidences. There was a good chance that his conjecture was right.

He needed to warn Halt and the others. He tried to rise, gasping softly at the pain that accompanied the action. He was exhausted and the injuries he had accumulated during his time in the river had stiffened while he had been lying idle and seized up when he had tried to move. His arm and chest hurt horribly on top of that. He fell back weakly. Then he gritted his teeth, took several deep breaths and tried again.

 **~x~X~x~**

 _"Sunshine lady,_

 _Color of Sunshine in your hair._

 _Happiness is the gown you wear._

 _I would follow you anywhere,_

 _My sunshine lady."_

Halt stayed in his position, his attention split between Will, Alyss and Horace, as they played the part of entertainers, and the area and people around them. Will was very skilled with his Mandola, he knew well how to read a crowd and act the part of a trained jongleur. Though Halt would never admit it, Will had a pleasing and resonant singing voice with good control.

Alyss danced and sometimes sang harmony with Will. She also took turns playing Will's Mandola while he sang. Halt knew that Will had been teaching her how to play the instrument and, though she wasn't yet as good as Will, she was still fairly good. When she danced, her gracefulness made her beautiful to watch. Even Horace was doing well enough with his drum; he kept the beat well and didn't lose cadence or tempo when he made embellishments. All in all, though they would never be considered master performers, they were doing fairly well and had attracted a substantial crowd.

Halt carefully swept his gaze along the crowd in question. His eyes flicked to each of the different individual people. Then he saw him. One man pushed his way casually towards the front to look at the new minstrels. Once he had gotten a good look, he backed carefully away.

The man had clearly made Will, Alyss and Horace, but he had been made in his turn. Halt moved so that he was following parallel but slightly behind the man as he made his way back through the milling people and towards the keep tower.

He emerged a short while later with two other men behind him. All three carried crossbows. Halt watched as they made their way towards the steps that let up to the catwalk that ran the battlement's length. Halt made his subtle way through the press of villagers as he saw the men take up positions inside one of the guard towers that stood at the corner of each of the four walls. There were archer's slits in the stones of those turrets, facing both outside and inside the castle. It would be a perfect spot for them to pick off Will, Alyss and Horace without fear of being spotted or fear of any return shots. Halt made his own way up the battlement stairs then, his passage absolutely noiseless, and ghosted towards the open door of the tower.

Halt crouched low and peered cautiously around the corner of the door jamb to see inside. If the men inside were checking their surroundings, the chances were good that they'd expect that anyone that might try peering in would do so at head or chest height, not near the ground. It would decrease his chances of being spotted drastically. But the men weren't checking their surroundings. They were all crouching near the archer's slits in the tower wall that faced the inside of the castle.

They had their crossbows loaded and ready as they measured angles and distances to shoot. Halt moved carefully forwards, coming up behind them, a striker in each hand. The men never heard him coming and never once looked behind them. Halt got within arms reach and then knocked the two nearest him out cold with simultaneous blows. The third man startled and tried to turn around, but stopped when he felt the prick of a blade at the back of his neck.

"Put down your bow," a low, cold, dangerous, and slightly accented voice told him.

The assassin dropped his bow and held his hands out in surrender.

Will glanced up unobtrusively and saw Halt exiting the tower. He'd been watching goings on out of the corner of his eye as he played; he had seen the three men enter the tower and then Halt follow after. Now his mentor had reappeared, and he wasn't alone, he had one of the three men with him. To anyone else, it would have looked as if Halt and the other man were simply walking side by side, but Will's keen eyes picked up the subtle hold that the Ranger had on the man as well as the glint of Halt's throwing knife.

He saw Halt make eye contact with him and then nod once. Will simply looked down and continued playing. Once they'd finished their song, Will stepped forwards and addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it has been an honor and a pleasure." He bowed slightly. "But, alas, my friends and I must take our leave. As much as we would like to stay, we have another engagement we must make."

The crowd dispersed reluctantly after that, many leaving a few coins in Will's mandola case that he had set out. Once the coast was clear, Will, Horace, and Alyss packed up. Although, this time, Will carried his mandola case with him.

The three moved along the inner perimeter of the wall so as not to run into anyone with their cart. Nobody attached any significance to their brief pause near the battlement steps as they stood in front of the cart to shield Halt and the assassin from view; and nobody saw as the assassin disappeared into the colored handcart. Will had also reclaimed his bow and Horace his sword, though they held them unobtrusively so that they wouldn't be in the view of any of the people around them. The three young people then continued on their way with Halt following a fair distance behind them.

They headed around to the other side of the keep tower where the area was clear of the celebrating people. The little side gate that led outside the castle walls was just ahead and currently unguarded. They headed towards it. They had just reached the gate when a sudden flash of movement caught Halts's eye. Hanging back as he was, he had a clearer view of the open space. He saw a line of about thirteen armed men appear suddenly from around the side of the keep tower. They were led by a spear wielding knight that Halt recognized as the Battlemaster of Devon Castle.

He saw, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that there were two crossbow men among the sword and spearmen, and that those two men were already ready to shoot. Their bows were trained on the three young people near the gate, their fingers already moving to pull the release.

Halt had instinctively knocked an arrow as soon as he had registered the group's first movements; but he knew was already too late. He could definitely stop one of the crossbowmen, but knew that the second one would probably be able to get off his first shot before Halt's second would reach him. Will, Horace, and Alyss must have either heard something or sensed the danger because Halt saw that they had started to turn: but he was fairly certain that they wouldn't be able to make it behind the cover of their small cart in time. All these thoughts flashed through his mind in the milliseconds it took for him begin to release his fingers from the string of his bow as he sighted. Then, suddenly, the two crossbowmen fell one after the other.

Will, his bow at half draw, saw both men go down and then saw a familiar shape behind the line of men. Gilan was standing there, disheveled and breathing heavily, his throwing knife and saxe empty from the double scabbard at his side.

Will saw one of the swordsmen turn to engage Gilan, who drew his own sword with his good arm. The pair squared off. More men probably would have joined the first, but Horace had reacted quickly to the appearance of the threat. He had moved as soon as the crossbowmen were down. He was already three quarters of the way across the distance to the line of armed men. Horace had their leader in his sights and moved to intercept him. All their earlier sneaking around, double blinds, and disguises weren't the sort of thing Horace liked; it wasn't the sort of thing he was comfortable doing, or how he liked to operate. He much preferred the directness of front on, face to face, combat. In short, he was at home with this sort of situation. It was what he had been trained for.

A swordsman tried to intercept Horace. They traded a few blows before the swordsman went down and Horace continued towards the spear wielding Battlemaster. Horace and the traitor Battlemaster began circling each other. Horace was armed only with his sword—he had been forced to leave his shield behind at their camp as it was too large and cumbersome for the minstrel disguise—but the Battlemaster had his sword at his hip as well as the spear he carried.

Horace could also tell, by the way the man handled himself and the familiar way that he held his weapon, that he would be very skilled with it. And that left Horace at a disadvantage. Armed as he was, the Battlemaster had the advantage of a greater reach as well as a backup weapon. In order for Horace to be able to defeat him, he would have to find a way to negate those advantages—and that was going to be a problem. Because of the extra reach, even a beginner spearman could hold an intermediate swordsman at bay, Horace knew.

It was the Battlemaster who made the first move, after yelling at his men to take care of Halt, Will and Alyss. Horace brought his sword up to parry the first darting thrust of the spear, deflecting it away from his body and then swinging his own sword in riposte. The Battlmaster blocked that in turn.

Halt had made his way towards Will and Alyss. The remaining eight swordsmen, who were not currently engaged or already out of the fight, headed towards the two Rangers and the Courier. Alyss drew her knife and Halt and Will had their longbows at full draw.

"King's Rangers!" Will and Halt said in unison, "Stand down!"

But the line of men ignored the call to surrender and kept up their steady advance. Within the matter of a few seconds, the eight became four who quickly lifted their hands in surrender.

Horace meanwhile was still trading blows with the Battlemster. The young knight was able to block, dodge or deflect anything that the Battlemaster threw at him, but the Battlemaster was able to do the same. Worse still, Horace couldn't find any opening that would allow him to get in close enough; the Battlemaster was too skilled and too experienced for that.

He really needed to do something about the man's extra reach. Suddenly, an idea of just how to that came to him. The Battlemaster struck forwards with another lightning fast thrust. Horace deflected the murderous point away from his body and again moved forwards with a counter-strike. This time, however, he launched his sword forward as he thrusted, letting the hilt of his weapon slip through his hand until his fingers came into contact with the pummel and he again tightened his grip. The move gave him the extra length of his sword hilt as well as his blade.

The Battlmaster was taken a little by surprise at the sudden extra reach of the lightning fast thrust and didn't quite manage to block or deflect it in time. Horace's sword skimmed off the man's arm just below his shoulder armor and drew blood. Horace took the moment to press his advantage further, closing the distance between them, moving inside the reach of the man's spear.

The Battlemaster, however, was an experienced fighter. He recovered quickly. As Horace moved towards him, he slid his grip on the spear shaft until he held it closer to its murderous head. He was able to fight at close quarters that way. However, now that they were close, and their weapons had equal reaches, Horace's superior skill became more evident. Also, unlike a sword, a spear wasn't sharp it's whole length.

Soon the young knight saw an opening and he took it. He slipped past the Battlemaster's guard with is free hand whilst distracting the man's attention with a side cut. He gripped the man's spear shaft with his left hand, grappling with him.

The Battlemaster, realizing his danger, let go of his spear with his right hand in order to draw the sword at his hip. He stopped, however, when he felt the point of Horace's sword at his throat, pressing deeply into the soft flesh there. Slowly, he dropped his spear and his sword, raising his hands in defeat and surrender.

Horace kicked the man's weapons further away and made him move forwards at sword point until he was kneeling next to the other men who had surrendered or been taken out of action by Halt and Will.

Will and Halt, during the brief battle, had aimed mainly to wound when they could—as Gilan had when he had thrown his saxe and throwing knife. They'd had no idea how many of the Battlemaster's men were actually in on his scheme, and none of them had wanted to kill the soldiers of Devon castle just for doing what they thought was their job. Horace made the enraged Battlemaster kneel next to his men, keeping the point of his sword trained on him all the while.

"Well, I suppose that settles that," Horace said, smiling at Will.

"I suppose it does," Will agreed, returning the smile.

"And it answers the question of the identity of the high ranking traitor," Alyss put in, sheathing her dagger now that the danger was past.

As she said it, Will's smile dropped and his eyes searched over the faces of his companions, doing an unconscious head count. "Where's Gilan?"

The last he had seen, the tall Ranger had been engaging a swordsman in close combat, but he was nowhere to be seen now. A twisting feeling began to take hold in the pit of his stomach. The companions exchanged worried glances before looking around themselves. Will's gaze swept over the few crumpled bodies in the open space until it landed on the figure he sought. Gilan was slumped against a nearby wall, his legs spread out before him. His face was pale, and his right hand was pressed against his chest, red blood staining his fingers from where the arrow wound had obviously reopened during the fight.

"Gilan?" Will called, worry making his words a little sharp; though he relaxed a little when he heard a slightly breathy answering call.

"I'm alright."

Will saw Halt moving towards the injured Ranger and was about to do likewise, opening his mouth to ask another question, when a motion caught his eye. Heading towards them was none other than the Baron of Devon himself with several knights at his back.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Feedback is much appreciated, if you've the time it helps feed the muse. Also don't hesitate to let me know if you see any problems or mistakes and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible. There will probably be only one more chapter after this one— at the most, one more and an epilogue, I'm not sure yet. There will also be a few more parodies. Sorry again for the long wait. I'll try to get the next chapter out a little faster if I can. I hope you all have blessed day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **A/N:** Here's the next chapter! It was longer, but it felt a little cluttered to me and I didn't like it; so I decided to split it up and make the other bit into an epilogue. I hope it turned out alright anyway. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, and reviewed!

 **YOURFAVEGUEST:** Thanks for the review and the compliment, it made my day! :)

 **TrustTheCloak:** Thanks so much for the review and support. I'm really glad you're liking the story so far: it makes all the hours I spent trying to come up with that banter worth it XD

 **Little Wishlet:** No worries X) I just hope it wasn't my fault/my story that made you stay up so late; I don't want you getting sleep deprived XD. Thanks for the review and the encouragement! I'm glad you thought it was a good motive: I am a big fan of having good motive. :)

 **Guest:** Thanks :)

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Very early the next morning, Will and Halt crouched, concealed in the thick trees of the ridge overlooking the small camp below. They watched the six figures who occupied it intently.

It had turned out that the Baron of Devon fief had been harboring some suspicious about his Battlemaster for some time; and those suspicions had only increased when the diplomat was taken and when the Battlemaster had ordered men in pursuit of Will and Alyss the night they had escaped the castle.

Needless to say, the Baron had been more than willing to listen to Halt, Will, Alyss and Horace when they had identified themselves. Having the Baron on hand to add his weight to the threats the Rangers made, had also helped when they interrogated the assassin they had captured. It hadn't taken the man long to spill what information he knew on the whereabouts of John.

All this had led them to where they were, watching the little camp. Will easily recognized the figure of John down below, with four other men lounging nearby. Next to John, Will could see the form of a woman with her hands tied behind her back. Halt and Will exchanged quiet glances. Both knew that they needed to be careful in a situation like this. Will nodded once at Halt, to signal that he was ready. The two then broke apart from each other, Will moving towards the front of the camp and Halt circling behind it.

To John and his men, it seemed as if the Ranger simply materialized in front of them with his bow drawn.

"King's Ranger," Will said, "lay down your arms and surrender."

John, however, had recovered quickly after Will's sudden appearance. He had moved instantly behind the Scotti diplomat, placing his sword at her throat. For a moment, the two adversaries eyed each other. The other men in John's party had risen to their feet, but so far hadn't made any other moves.

"Clever for you to have found us boy; but now you are going turn around and leave and let us be on our way."

"And why would I do that?" Will asked coolly.

"Because, if you don't, I kill her, just like I killed your other friends." He sneered. "You've outmaneuvered yourself _Ranger_."

"Have I?" Will asked, a faint smile on his lips.

The calm manner in which he spoke, and apparent unconcern, made the beginnings of uncertainty rise up in John. That sense was only compounded when something heavy impacted his sword hand. He screamed in pain as his sword fell from his grip. He stared in horror at the black shafted arrow that had embedded itself in his hand.

He had little enough time to dwell on that fact for the diplomat took the opening and opportunity to strike. Rhona head butted him backwards. John's head snapped back, blood starting to cascade down his face from his nose. Rhona MacKinnon twisted away from him and moved to stand behind Will. Will meanwhile had moved to shoot at the two swordsmen rushing towards him from the left while Halt took care of the ones on the right.

In the moments while Will was occupied with the two other men, John had recovered enough of his senses and faculties to reach for, and get his uninjured hand around, a loaded crossbow which had been lying near him. He began lifting it.

Will was turned slightly away from John, his bow only at half draw, but he had seen John's motion out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't try it," Will warned.

But John, lost in a fever of rage, didn't listen. He brought the crossbow up in the blink of an eye, his hand moving to pull the release trigger. But he never managed it. He gasped in pain and shock as he felt two nearly simultaneous impacts, burning pain, and then nothing. His crossbow fell from nerveless fingers. He crumpled to the ground, still and lifeless, Will's arrow transfixing him from the front and Halt's from behind.

Will lowered his bow. Rhona MacKinnon stepped forward slightly. She surveyed the still form of John and the moaning group of his companions, who had an array of leg and arm wounds, her expression unsympathetic. She turned to look at Will and then at Halt, who had broken from cover to circle down to his former apprentice so they stood side by side.

"You're the Araluen Rangers I was supposed to meet?" she asked, offering her bound hands towards Will who drew his saxe to free her.

When Will nodded in answer to her question, she smiled faintly at them.

"Well then," she said, "what took you so long?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on Halt's grizzled face. "We ran into a few complications along the way," he said.

"Better late than never," Will offered innocently, smiling too.

"Aye," the Scotti diplomat said, nodding, "I'd gladly drink to that."

 **~x~X~x~**

Everything seemed to work itself out fairly nicely after that. The Baron had found and then released the rest of Alyss's diplomatic team who had been locked in the dungeon by his Battlmaster; Halt and Will had released the rest of Rhona MacKinnon's party who had been imprisoned a little ways behind John's camp.

Rhona herself had been more than willing to participate in peace talks. She had told Halt that, when she had been imprisoned by John and his men, John had told her of his connections with the Macleod clan, and how they had paid him and promised him position and further profit if he aided in capturing her. Consequently, since it had been her own people who had caused all the problems, she held no resentment at all towards Araluen for what had befallen her. Confident the threat was over, she had also declined Halt's offer to act as her protection for the remainder of the talks. Since the Task Force's job was done, they had decided to head back.

Late the next afternoon saw Will, Halt, Horace and Gilan in Redmont Feif. Halt had insisted that Gilan come stay with them until he was well enough to fend for himself and resume his duties again; and he hadn't allowed the younger Ranger to refuse. Horace and Will had backed Halt—so had the healer at Castle Devon, saying Gilan's only choices would be to say in Devon infirmary until he healed or go with Halt.

Gilan had protested at first, claiming that they were all acting like "a whole pack of Mother-hens", but had eventually relented. The tall Ranger was smart enough to realize that his friends had insisted on it, not because they thought him weak, or incapable, but because they were genuinely worried and concerned for him. He could easily recognize the love and support behind their fussing, and he accepted it. In fact, he was even a little touched by it.

Besides that, he was a good judge of his own limitations, and he knew that they were right: he wasn't quite well enough to be fending for himself just yet. He'd set himself back a few days with the stunt he had pulled. Aside from destroying any healing of the arrow wound in his chest, he had torn the careful stitches Halt had been forced to put in, because of the sharp rocks of the river, in a couple places as well, and was still a little weak from the injuries and blood loss.

To help them get back, the Baron had loaned them the use of a cart; it had been a long, tiring, and often painfully bumpy road to get to Redmont—despite their careful progress. But, in Gilan's opinion, even that was better than being trapped in an infirmary.

As soon as they had arrived, Halt had gone to report to the Baron with Horace, and to see Pauline. Will had stayed behind. He had just finished helping Gilan settle in the spare bedroom in his cabin.

Will glanced at his friend; Gilan was looking a little better, but he was still worn, pale and a pretty beat up. They had put his arm in a sling to help keep the arrow wounds as still as possible so they could have a chance to mend properly. Until those arrow wounds mended completely, they would all have to be on careful watch for infection, Will knew. His friend still had a ways to go yet. Will felt his smile fade a little at the sight, a heavy feeling settling in his chest.

"Let me know if you need anything," Will said, looking away uncomfortably.

"Thank you," Gilan said quietly.

Will nodded and turned to leave, heading for the door.

"Will, hold up a moment please," Gilan said suddenly.

The younger Ranger turned back to face him.

"While you and Halt were dealing with John, Horace and I had a while to talk and he told me that you were the one who pulled me out of the river. I just wanted to say thank you, you probably saved my life."

Will however seemed almost to flinch as Gilan said it, the small smile fading completely from his face. "It's alright," he managed to mumble before turning and leaving the room quickly.

Gilan's own smile faded to be replaced with a look of confusion and concern.

"Will?" he called after him, but his friend didn't re-appear.

The rest of that day and into the next Will spent as much time as he could doing outside chores, unconsciously trying to stay away from everybody as much as possible—which was, admittedly, a little hard to do when the cabin was so small and both Horace and Gilan were staying there, and when Halt and Pauline had come to visit twice, but he couldn't help it.

Every time he looked at Gilan, or his other friends he felt the guilt gnawing away at him. Surely they all knew that it was his fault. He had hoped that when he had defeated John and fixed that whole situation, it might have made him feel a little better—and it had, but not as much as he would have liked.

Late that second afternoon, Will was sitting under the shade of one of the trees near the little cabin, still angry at, and disappointed in, himself. He let out a low sigh as he stared almost despondently out at the woodland around him.

"Something on your mind?" A voice sounded from behind him and Will jumped.

"I wish you wouldn't do that Gil," Will complained, turning to see his friend. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting."

The tall Ranger only fixed him with a smile as he waited for Will to answer his question. Will shifted slightly when he saw that Gilan was not going to be dissuaded or distracted.

"There it is again." Gilan said suddenly.

"There what is?" Will asked.

"You, wincing every time you look at me. I don't think I'm quite ugly enough to warrant such a reaction."

Will found himself at a momentary loss for words, but Gilan wasn't finished.

"You've been acting odd: you haven't asked Halt a single question all day. You're sitting out here alone instead of talking with Horace. And, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me too."

Will closed his eyes for a moment. It was as he had thought earlier; somehow, the older Ranger always seemed to know when something was bothering him. And, like all those other times, Gilan had sought him out. Normally it would have eased his mind, but now he found that it almost hurt. All he could do was feel strangely awkward around him; the brotherly connection he usually felt between them now felt painful and strained. Gilan had to know that it was Will's fault that he'd been hurt. He'd betrayed his friend's trust and let him down.

"It's my fault that you were hurt," he blurted angrily.

Gilan seemed to flinch backwards, surprise written all over his features.

" _That's_ what's been bothering you?" Gilan asked, and then, to Will's surprise, he started to laugh.

"Stop it, Gil, it isn't funny," Will said, and then recalling an earlier incident when he had said much the same thing, he added, "and don't you dare say 'it is from this direction,' because it's not!"

Gilan stopped laughing when he saw the bitter disappointment on Will's face. He shook his head slightly, the smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

"So, you set up that ambush, did you?" he asked Will then.

"Well, no…" Will said, stumbling for words

"Or maybe you made me jump in the way?"

"No," Will said exasperated, making a negative gesture with his hands, before he added in a more subdued tone, "But Halt told me to scout the area and I only did it quickly. If I'd been more thorough, I could have seen that ambush line before you got hurt."

"Might have," Gilan said, "but that's no guarantee."

But Will shook his head stubbornly. "My carelessness put us all in danger. I should have been more thorough, more careful."

"True, you probably should have—we all should have. But have you ever thought why you didn't, why we didn't?"

Will was taken slightly aback then, he hadn't considered that question. He had to think about it for a moment.

"I didn't think I had to. I trusted Alyss's messenger, and Alyss," he said finally.

Gilan made a gesture that plainly said 'there you have it.'

"We all did," the tall Ranger pointed out, "At the time, you didn't really have cause to look further. You couldn't have foreseen that: none of us expected that you should have. So you made a mistake—we all did." Gilan shrugged, "What matters is that you won't let something like that happen again, will you? Neither will any of us. 'Should have,' is worthless to think about, after all. Just learn from it, move on, and don't repeat it," he put his good hand on his friend's shoulder. "Will, I don't blame you for what happened; so you should stop blaming yourself."

And as he said it, Will knew instinctively that he was right. Slowly, he felt that uncomfortable weight seem to lift off his chest.

"You know," Will said, placing an arm around Gilan's shoulder in return and walking carefully with him back towards the cabin, "If I didn't know you better, I might have accidentally mistaken you for being…" he searched for the word, " _wise?_ " They both locked eyes, considering, their expressions serious. Then they grinned at each other.

"Nah," they said in unison shaking their heads.

 **~x~X~x~**

Alyss came by later that night, having finished negotiations back in Devon. Rhona MacKinnon had turned out to be a very direct and driven negotiator, so they had finished early— and finished well. After everything they had been through to help make it all possible, Alyss had decided to stop by at Will's cabin to deliver the good news before she reported to the Baron.

At that late hour, only Horace and Will were still awake. The three old ward mates sat contentedly on Will's porch, listening to the wind through the trees and other nighttime noises, watching the stars, and simply enjoying each other's company. Alyss moved herself closer to Will, placing her arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder as he strummed his mandola. She took in his familiar scent, enjoying the sensation of being so near him.

She could not help but smile faintly as he busily worked on turning _Jessie on the_ _Mountain_ into _Jenny of the Kitchen_. She listened as his pleasant voice seemed to blend with the nighttime sounds around them, and could not help but smile at the words in a few places, while Horace chuckled.

.

 _Jenny of the kitchen,_

 _The lord of pots and pans,_

 _Her ladle ready pitchin',_

 _On interlopers' hands._

 _._

 _Ruler of the kitchen,_

 _A cook without compare_

 _But if she sees you snitchin',_

 _You'll wish you weren't there._

 _._

 _Jenny of the kitchen,_

 _Her prowess does she tout._

 _But, if her heart you get in,_

 _you'll never go without._

 _._

 _Pastries, pies, and pudding,_

 _And pasties, meats, and stew._

 _There'll always be good eating_

 _That's filling, through and through._

 _._

 _Jenny of the Kitchen,_

 _The Lord of pots and pans._

 _You'll dread to be a missin'_

 _The food made by her hands._

 _._

The last pleasant notes drifted off into the nighttime shadows and then Alyss sat up straighter as a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Jenny!" Alyss exclaimed as she turned towards the others. "Have either of you told her about Gilan and what happened?"

And when they both made rather guilty starts, she knew the answer. However, neither one of those two supposed heroes of Araluen seemed to have the courage enough to volunteer to brave Jenny's potential wrath and ladle in order to deliver the news. She sighed in resignation at their response; part of her wanted to roll her eyes and tease them about being scared of a cook, but the other part couldn't really blame them. Jenny, despite her usually happy, friendly and bouncy nature, did have an admittedly fiery temper when provoked.

"I guess that leave me," Alyss said then. This wasn't going to be easy, she knew.

"Well, you are the diplomat," Will said, "I'm sure nobody could find a better way of breaking the news than you."

Alyss raised an elegant brow, glaring slightly at him as she easily recognized the flattery as a ploy.

"Just for that, I might use my diplomatic skills to delegate the job to you, Will." She said icily.

"Me?" Will practically squeaked, wondering helplessly exactly where he had gone wrong, "Why me? Even Horace would be better than me."

"Oh, no," Horace said bringing up his hands, "leave me out of this one."

 **~x~X~x~**

The next morning after he had eaten breakfast, Gilan moved to sit on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. Lying still in the same spot for an extended period of time had gotten uncomfortable, not to mention boring, and he, and his newly aching back, had needed a change. That was how Jenny found him when she made her way to Will's cabin.

"Gilan!" she exclaimed, nearly sounding angry with worry and concern.

When all this was over, he would need a new name, he thought absently. If his name were a horse it would be a rundown old nag because of this little adventure; the thought made him chuckle slightly. He offered Jenny a bright smile as she bent over him. He could not deny that it was more than nice to see her.

She bit her lip as she looked him up and down, that slight trace of anger vanishing. The anger was probably only ever there in the first place because he had scared her. He was sorry about that, he thought as he looked up into her pretty face.

"Did you fall?" she asked him softly, concerned.

"No," he told her cheerily, "I was just resting. Believe it or not, the scenery down here has just gotten remarkably beautiful."

And there was her smile.

"Gilan," she repeated laughing softly.

He was slightly surprised to feel her arms go gently around him as she kissed him. The whole business of getting injured and recovering hadn't been very enjoyable, but this was definitely a bright spot.

"If I had known that getting ambushed would have earned me a kiss, I might have tried it sooner," he said playfully as they pulled apart.

She glared at him for a moment and then shook her head, smiling once more. "Just so long as you don't do it again. Once was quite enough. I'll happily come after you will my rolling pin if you ever try it again," she warned, cheerfully.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Feedback is very appreciated. The epilogue should be up in a few days. *Sigh* I really didn't expect, or mean, for this to get so long, but I guess those are the woes of writing so many characters at once and trying to give them all as equal of amounts of attention as possible, it takes much longer to write... Needless to say, I've learned my lesson XD I hope that you all have lovely weeks!

 **Side Note:** This time I didn't write Jenny's song to the tune of any particular existing song and, since I don't know the actual tune or rhythm of _Jessie on the Mountain_ , I kind of just picked a rhythm and ran with it XD


	6. Chapter 6

**Epilogue**

 **A/N:** Here's the epilogue. I really hope this story proved to be an enjoyable diversion. Thank you guys for all of your support, it was really encouraging. Also, thanks for reading!

 **Adjectiveant:** Thanks for the constructive criticism. I've made sure to fix those errors you mentioned. Funny thing is I did use to center and bold my line breaks, but it seems that I've gotten progressively lazy about it; sorry about that.

Also, special thanks to **TrustTheCloak** and **Andy the willow tree** for your kind reviews; you guys totally made my day!

* * *

 **Epilogue**

It was about a week later that Alyss came to the small cabin in the trees to visit with Halt, Horace, and Gilan. Usually, she saw the latter two very infrequently, and hardly ever together. It was because of this that she wanted to make the most of it. Obviously, they both thought the same for they had been chatting the day away, sitting around Will's table with steaming cups of coffee beside them. Will really should have been there too, but he had been called away the night before on urgent business. There had been the problem of an arsonist in one of the more outlying hamlets and Will had been forced to settle it. Rangers, it seemed, could never truly catch a break.

"I never did ask," Horace said suddenly to Alyss, "how did Jenny take it when you told her what happened?"

"Not very well," Alyss said, raising an elegant brow. "Think about it: how do you think you would you take it if Will came to you one day and told you that he'd nearly gotten Cassandra killed?"

Horace winced slightly. "I can see how it didn't go so well."

Alyss nodded. "But at least she was more worried than angry and didn't go after me with her ladle."

There was a moment of silence as all of them considered that. Nobody, if they were wise, would ever want to get on the wrong end of Jenny's ladle. Her reputation with it almost rivaled that of her mentor Chub.

"What about you Horace?" Alyss asked, changing the subject. "I would have thought you would have returned to Castle Araluen already."

"I've decided that I'm not leaving until Gilan is well enough to back to his own fief." Horace said in answer.

"That's really sweet of you," Alyss said, surprised.

"Not only that, but Jenny has been making dinner for me every night, and there's been more than enough for Horace and Will too," Gilan put in, grinning. "There's no way he'd miss out on that by leaving sooner."

Horace smiled and nodded his head in agreement, sighing happily.

Alyss rolled her eyes. "Trust you men to turn a beautiful act of kindness and altruism in for something as simple as food." But she was smiling too.

"Halt also thought it might be a good idea for me to ride back with Gilan to Whitby. I can ride with him there and then take the main road to Castle Araluen without going too far out of my way," Horace added. "It'll all work out pretty nicely."

Gilan nodded in agreement, and then changed the subject again, "speaking of Will, Jenny tells me that some of the village children have started singing the parody that he made of George," he said, chuckling.

Will hadn't left out George in his recent parody writing spree and had come up with a modified version of _The Hero of the Highlands_ about him, re-titled _The Scholar's Hero_.

.

 _George, he was a scholar bold._

 _Afraid of combat true,_

 _But challenge him with pad and pen,_

 _And that's the day you'll rue._

 _._

 _He had no head for valor._

 _Detests adventure too._

 _But has a love of paper,_

 _No better writer true._

 _._

 _Three cheers for the pencil lads!_

 _For desks and papers too!_

 _Scholar talk and legal terms!_

 _And George who loves them true!_

.

Horace also laughed. "Poor George," he said, shaking his head slightly, "he really hasn't appreciated it: says that it's bad for his legal reputation."

Alyss's expression, however, had darkened at the mention of Will's modified songs.

"I have had just about enough of Will's parodies," she said, frowning. "They are beginning to get out of hand."

Gilan looked up at her in surprise. "I thought you thought they were funny—and besides, the song he made about you was actually pretty flattering."

Alyss and Pauline had so far been the only ones to get a parody made about them that wasn't riddled with playful insults.

Alyss brushed that aside. "Yes, most of the songs he writes are funny—and the one he wrote about me was very sweet. But I'm not talking about those, I'm talking about _Will the Ranger_ or what used to be _Liam Naylor_.

"Oh, _that_ one," Gilan and Horace said in unison, glancing at each other and trying very hard to hide their smiles.

They knew the one she meant, and knew also why Alyss hadn't liked it. The song poked fun at rather difficult time in Alyss and the Princess Cassandra's relationship to each other and to Will. It was a very lively upbeat sort of song, with a catchy tune that belied the theme.

.

 _Will the Ranger was no great stranger, full of life and heart and play_

 _Then one day did he discover, a lovely Courier maiden gay._

 _Twenty of the kings officials, met him on the king's highway,_

 _As he was heading to be married, on a mission he was sent away._

 _._

 _Courier clothing she put on, and went about her duties and task,_

 _Going on her Courier's missions, till she learned that he was back._

 _Wistfully, she long to see him, longed to make their parting right_

 _She rode to the castle of Araluen, on the threshold did she alight._

 _._

 _When the King did she discover, he said, 'my lady, why came you here?'_

 _'_ _Milord, I'm seeking Will the Ranger, a quest you sent him on last year.'_

 _'_ _If you get up in the morning, and set out west at break of day,_

 _There you'll find young Will the Ranger, walking with my daughter to stay.'_

 _._

 _She rose up early in the morning, and set out west at break of day._

 _There she spotted Will the Ranger, walking with the princess gay,_

 _She procured two loaded crossbows, from the guards at her command,_

 _There she shot poor Will the Ranger; and the princess at his right hand._

 _._

What made it so bad for Alyss was the fact that she knew she had been overly jealous during that whole fiasco— and jealous without cause as it turned out. In fact, it had been so bad that she might well have been tempted to consider the idea going after the princess with a loaded crossbow. She and Evanlyn had moved on from that and were actually very good friends now; but Alyss wasn't really happy or ready to have that regretful stage of their life turned into a joking parody. It wasn't at all funny to her.

It was easy enough for Will, she thought bitterly, his feelings hadn't really been involved in that whole debacle. In fact, she was positive that he had been entirely oblivious to the whole situation while it was happening. He had only figured it out later.

"I just wish there was a way for me to get back at him a little bit," Alyss said then.

"I wouldn't mind getting in on that myself," Gilan said, grinning mischievously.

"Me either," Horace agreed, then his brow furrowed. "But how would we do that?"

Halt, who had been listening in on the conversation while he finished a report, provided the answer immediately.

"Simple," he said flatly, setting the paper and quill pen aside, "we make a parody about Will." An ominously wolfish smile touched his grizzled face then. "And I know just where to start."

In truth, he had been waiting for such an opportunity ever since the invention of _Greybeard Halt_.

 **~x~X~x~**

Will returned from his unexpected trip about a day and a half later, having settled the arson problem. The young Ranger put Tug in the stables and gave the little horse a rub down and measure of oats. As he worked, he hummed. He had come up with another brilliant parody idea and was trying to flush it out.

He had seen Abelard in the stables so, when he was finished tending to Tug, he glanced around to make sure that Halt was nowhere nearby. Once he was certain, he gave Tug, Kicker, Abelard and Blaze an apple each as a treat. Then he left the stables. As he headed towards the little cabin, he sang softly, trying out a verse that had been giving him particular trouble.

.

 _Oh Princess of Araluen, as stubborn as they come_

 _But brilliant, true, and brave_

 _Fighting with sling and stave_

 _Strong of will and heart, and never to succumb_

.

Princess Cassandra, to his knowledge, had never actually ever used stave—or any spear-like weapon for that matter—in combat. But he really needed word that rhymed with brave and would fit with the context of the song. He shrugged to himself philosophically; it would just have to do.

He opened the door to the cabin and was surprised to see the room filled with his friends. Halt was standing off to the side, a rather unsettling smile touching his face. Gilan, Horace, Alyss, Jenny and George, were standing in the middle of the open room in a sort of formation.

Alyss was holding Will's Mandola—he hadn't had the time to take it with him when he'd left do deal with the arson problem. Horace had the drum they had gotten on the mission in Devon; the knight had taken quite a liking to the instrument and Alyss's contact had given it to him as a gift. Jenny was holding two large metal spoons bound together so they would make a 'tink' sound, and a covered bowl filled with grain that made a rattly sound, when she shook them. George was holding the little pan flute he had been learning to play. Gilan stood towards the middle of the group.

As soon as Will entered, the tall Ranger raised his good arm like a music conductor to give the beat. As one, they started in on a song, Gilan singing lead. Though his voice wasn't as resonant or refined as Will's, it was a pleasing enough tenor and he could hold a tune. Alyss occasionally joined him to sing harmony. Seeing all his friends together making music was a huge surprise indeed, but it wasn't quite as surprising as the actual content of the song itself—a modified version of _The Merchant Bold_.

Will felt his cheeks flushing slightly as he stood there in shocked surprise and listened—it appeared that his friends had finally found a way to get him back for all the parodies he had been making. He shook his head slightly, a smile etching it's way across his face.

.

 _There chanced to be a young boy alone,_

 _a boy with no name there chanced to be._

 _But then a hero he did become,_

 _known as the Ranger Will Treaty_

 _._

 _By chance he was quite a troublesome lad,_

 _a troublesome lad he chanced to be;_

 _Finding both trouble and danger great,_

 _whilst asking questions interminably_

 _._

 _The mind of a butterfly did he have,_

 _a butterfly's flitting mind had he,_

 _There is no one thing he'll focus on,_

 _because his thoughts flick so speedily_

 _._

 _He gets himself into tons of scrapes,_

 _Tons of trouble he'll always find._

 _But even when he's completely lost,_

 _He overcomes with sheer luck and mind…_

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for Reading. Feedback is always appreciated! Let me know if you see anywhere I can improve or have any suggestions. I'm still planning to do the other two story ideas I had for this little mini-series: _Hides_ and _Messages._.. though, school starts back up of me in about a week so I'm not sure when that will be exactly (I have an extremely nasty full schedule). I also have a few other ideas running around my head for RA that I'd like to put on paper, so I'll see how it goes.

 **Side note:** George and Cassandra's songs I free wrote; but for _Will the Ranger_ I was inspired by, and wrote it to the tune of, _William Taylor_ which is (I believe) an 18th century Irish ballad (I also kept the theme of the song) I think it's pretty funny. The song that Will's friends wrote for him I wrote to the tune of _The Bold Peddler and Robin Hood_ which is an old English Ballad, I believe.

 **Side side note:** Here are the summaries for the other two shorts I mentioned above if you're interested.

 **Hides:** Will finds himself climbing a tree after playing Greybeard Halt one too many times and discovers something interesting. And that something might just end up holding the key to helping him devise a plan to save his mentor when he finds trouble. (Will, Halt, Crowley, Gilan)

 **Messages:** Will decides to try and train a hawk from the mountains of Rain and Night to carry messages for the Ranger Corps. Unfortunately, training it successfully turns out to be much harder than expected. In hind sight though, that turned out to be a rather good thing; especially when Horace finds himself in pretty deep water. (Will, Horace, Evanlyn/Cassandra)

Thanks again! I hope you all have an amazing day!

 **~ATGTJ~**


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